Missing Souls
by Wherondale
Summary: A few months after Clary Morgenstern learns who she really is, another truth is about to hit her. School, not her thing. When she is sent to the Shadowhunter Academy, Clary is heading for a new future, but still it seems like her past just can't leave her alone. Sequel to Undefined Darkness.
1. A new beginning

Here's the beginning of the sequel, sorry about the long wait.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instruments. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

I know this chapter is a bit short, but I think we all need to get into the story before the heavy stuff hits us. Enjoy.

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"Stop smiling." Clary barked at her brother, "It just makes it a trillion times more obvious how bad of a brother you actually are." Clary looked up at him, only to find his smirk transform into a wide grin. Jonathan pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and walked over to Clary, who threw another pair of dark jeans in her trunk.

"It actually just shows how much I'm enjoying this." He pointed at the trunk before he swirled a pointed finger around the room, "You know, watching how miserable you are. Even though everyone has already told you, it is not that bad. In fact, it's actually lots of fun." Jon said.

"Yeah.." Clary looked up at her brother, her voice changing into a happier tone, "Jonathan, you don't happen to have anything white?"

Jon raised an eyebrow towards his sister, "No." he replied, dragging out the word, "Why?"

Clary slammed the tightly packed trunk closed, before she turned around with a false smile crossing her lips. "Because I might as well just kill myself before mom can force me into going." Clary told him.

"Okay, you don't think you're exaggerating this a little too much?" Jon asked, handing Clary her new gear, seeing as her old one had been destroyed beyond repair in the Mortal War.

"No, I absolutely do not think so!" Clary replied, raising her voice.

"Fine, I'll go tell mom she should be planning the funeral then, because you're going." Jon started to walk out of the room, followed by a loud groan from his sister.

"I hate you." Clary mumbled, just loud enough for Jon to hear.

When the door closed behind him, she slammed her fist against the trunk. Cursing as it met the wooden surface.

Clary had tried to play the most convincing role of a normal teenage daughter for the past month. She had pretended not to dread the idea of going to the Shadowhunter Academy, but the closer she got to the actual departing, the more difficult it was to pretend it was not happening. Soon, she had given up the whole act.

Clary knew nobody would budge, and she would in fact have to go there, but at least she could have the pleasure of making everyone aware of her distaste for the whole idea. Both Jace and Isabelle were more than happy about returning. Not that Clary could blame them. They had been students at the Academy for almost five years when Clary got them expelled. They would go back to friends, teachers, family and routines they already knew of.

At first, they had all just ignored talking about it, knowing it got her in a bad mood. Jace was the worst, he would slip from time to time, mentioning Iwan or some friends of his, and then later, he would apologize, as if she had been angry with him or something. To be honest, Clary did not really care. She was glad they had something to look forward to; she just did not enjoy the fact that she had to share the "looking forward to" part with them.

"Clary!" she heard Jon yell from the other side of the door.

"What?" She asked harsh, her bad mood still visible in her voice.

"I just wanted to tell you that we're leaving in, like, an hour. So you should probably be done soon." He told her, and she could _hear_ the smirk on his lips as he spoke.

"Great." Clary replied with her voice raised. "Just amazing." She whispered, picking up the trunk and putting it down next to the two bags she had already filled with stuff she needed.

Clary opened the door leading out of her room. She had stopped avoiding her family after that night at the Institute. In fact, she had stopped avoiding most people, maybe with the exception of the more important people of the Clave.

She knew how much they had all sacrificed for her. To keep her out of trouble. And even though Clary had sacrificed a lot for them as well, she felt like there would never come a time where she could make up for everything. The least she could do was talk.

Clary did not know how the whole Academy stuff would work out, if she would share a room with someone else, god, she hoped she would not have to share a room. Also, if they would have bullshit trainings and not. Was there any free time, were they supervised all the time? Probably not.

"Clary!" This time it was Jocelyn's voice that rung from the hall.

"I'm coming! Just wait two minutes." Clary answered back as she tried to pick up both her bags and the trunk at the same time, balancing it all in her hands. Walking from the bed to the door was an easy enough task, but opening the door without dropping anything, not so much.

"Shit." She mumbled, trying to kick the handle with her foot. "Shit." This time a little louder.

"Clary? Are you okay?" Jocelyn's out-of-breath voice came from the hall; she was probably running around the house trying to get everything ready.

"I'm fine." Clary answered annoyed, kicking one last time before the door swung open. Jon met her in the opening and grabbed the trunk out of her hands. "Thanks." She mumbled embarrassed.

"No problem, me helping you just means we get your sour ass out of the house faster." He replied with a smug smirk falling over his face in an unnatural expression.

"Hey!" Clary slapped the trunk out of balance in his hands, "That not a very nice thing to tell someone who's been gone for almost sixteen years." Clary answered, watching his face darken at the reminder.

"Sorry." He looked at her, his bottle green eyes meeting her emeralds.

"I.." Clary felt a sudden sting of guilt rush over her, "I was just kidding, Jon." She smiled a caring smile, "I already know you are going to miss me like crazy." She joked.

"Sure thing, princess." Jon smiled back, before putting down Clary's stuff in the doorway. Clary looked at him, raising an eyebrow irritated.

"Do not call me that." She said, as she mimicked him, getting her hands free. "I'll just go find mom and Luke." Clary clapped her brother on his shoulder, a _too big_ smile across her lips. Jon only nodded.

When Clary walked back into the kitchen, the sight took her by surprise. Jocelyn had wrapped her arms around Luke, her head leaning against his chest. The little parts of her face that were visible showed a tired expression. Clary could see Luke say something, but his voice was too soft for Clary to hear what he said.

Jocelyn looked up, sending him a light smile. "You are right." She answered, pressing her lips against his.

Clary bit her lip awkward, "Well, aren't you two just adorable." she smirked.

Luke was the first to pull away, his eyes meeting Clary behind a pair of large glasses. "Trust only a Morgenstern to make that sound like an insult." He laughed, taking his wife's hand in his.

"You ready?" Jocelyn asked with a bright smile on her lips, almost too bright.

"Yep." Clary nodded, "I was actually going to get you two. Jon is waiting by the door."

"Great." Jocelyn smiled again.

xxxx

"Mom, I'm not going on a trip around the world. It's a school." Iwan brushed his mother's hands off his jacket.

"I know, sweetheart. I just want everything to be.." Celine stopped, watching her youngest boy as he picked up a large bag and threw it over his shoulder. He had grown so much in the past year. Celine did not even believe he was the same, uncoordinated, young boy she would find complaining about his brother's hard work schedule every night as Jace pushed him one step further away from his comfort zone.

"Good." Iwan whispered after a long minute of silence.

Celine looked at her blond boy, a smile forming on her soft lips. "Yeah. Good," she answered with a warm tone.

Iwan was already on his way over to Max, who stood in the hall with a pair of large glasses hanging too far down on the bridge of his nose. "Second semester, Max, I'm getting the upper bunk bed this time!" he shouted at his friend.

Max was about to protest when a voice called from the hall, "MAX! IWAN!" It was Isabelle's strong voice. "Clary's here, we're about to leave!"

xxxx

Clary felt stupid for going to the Institute before she left for the Academy. She could have just as easily teleported right into the Academy's grounds, but knowing she would most likely end up alone, surrounded by a hundred other students who knew how things worked, she would rather go with the rest of them.

"Hey you!" Isabelle's bright smile shone in Clary's direction, "It's so good to see you, Clary. Everything good?" Isabelle asked, and as the hugger she was, she forced Clary into a short embrace.

"Yeah, of course," Clary answered sarcastically, "What could possibly be better than going to a damn Shadowhunter school full of ignorant children?"

"It's not that bad, I promise." Isabelle laughed, ignoring Clary's bad mood, "And the people there are really nice and surprisingly well educated," she finished.

"If you say so, Isabelle," Clary muttered. She watched as Jon entered the room, dragging her bag behind him with a grim expression, "What the hell have you brought with you, Clary? It feels like I'm carrying a bag of rocks."

Clary gave him a short smirk, "You call that carrying?" she pointed at the bag he dragged three feet behind him.

"Yeah, when something is as heavy as this thing, I call it carrying."

"Stop complaining, Fairchild, we all know it's because you're weak, no need to pretend like anything else." The voice came from behind them, and Clary did not need to turn as she recognised whom the voice belonged to instantly.

"Nice to see you too, Herondale." Jon answered as he turned his gaze in the direction of the arriving boys. Clary turned on her heels, facing the blond boy who welcomed her with a small smile. "Hey, hey, hey!" she muttered as she took a few steps towards Jace and Alec, "Only I get the privilege of insulting my brother. He's my brother, you have your own." Clary sent him a short smirk before giving him the shortest of a kiss.

"Ahh," Jace replied before he brushed Clary's messy red hair out of her eyes, "but you see, yours is so much more fun." He kissed her back, hearing a loud cough from Isabelle who was looking in their direction.

"Would you mind waiting until after we get to the Academy? Or is that going to interfere with your.." she pointed her index finger at them, waving it around in the air, "sexual frustration."

"Isabelle!" Jon groaned, "Please, don't." The older brother's irritated expression caused Isabelle to let out a loud laugher.

"Sorry," She bit her lip breaking her smile, "I'm just stating the obvious."

Not even a second later, the five teens were interrupted by a voice behind them, "The obvious what?" the voice belonged to a slightly smaller version of Jace, standing with a large bag hanging over his shoulder.

Clary could feel Jace's lips transform into a smirk as he heard his brother speak. "Oh, nothing, buddy." Jace ruffled his little brother's hair playfully after stepping towards him, grabbing the large bag out of Iwan's hands. "I can do it; I don't need your help!" Iwan answered irritated as he pulled at his stuff.

"Okay." Jace dropped the bag on the floor, smiling as his brother sighed frustrated before he started ranting about how annoying Jace was.

"Why did you do that?" Clary asked questioning as she saw the smug smile on his lips. "Iwan is – let's say – easily distracted." He replied, nodding his head in the boy's direction.

"ISABELLE! JACE!" It was Maryse's voice yelling from a few rooms down the hall. As she entered, her eyes lit up with a spark Clary had not seen in a long time, "Oh, Clary, so nice to see you again, Jocelyn told me you would meet us here before we leave for the Academy." Maryse noticed how the girl rolled her eyes at the mentioning of the school.

Clary did not answer; she simply sent a short smile in the woman's way. "Now, I hope you are all ready to go. We are leaving in approximately two minutes." She finished, before heading back out of the room.

"Well, here goes nothing." Clary whispered as she followed the others out of the room.

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Thank you so much for reading, let me know if you liked it! any suggestions to minor plots? This story is a lot freer in terms of plot-lines. Only the main stuff is figured out so far, I would love to hear what you want to see. But one thing I CAN promise already, there will be more Clace in this story. Please leave a little review and I'll update as soon as possible.


	2. The academy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

So sorry for the long wait! People do not forget to save your documents when you are done writing, it took me forever to dig this damn chapter up from the deepest, darkest corners of my computer. So I really hope you like it.

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As they landed on the grounds of the Shadowhunter Academy, Clary noticed how different everything was. The large meadows of green grass that surrounded the building that Clary guessed had to be the Academy. She could see the City of Glass in the faint distance, gleams of lights shining from the towers that protected the city. It was, if she had to be honest, a breathtaking sight. The Academy was at least three times the size of the Institute of New York, not that she had really expected anything less. Jace had told her the Academy served as home for over two hundred kids between the age of twelve and seventeen during the school year, and she noticed how there were kids walking together in groups. They were chatting comfortably with each other, sitting in the fresh-cut grass and letting the sun hit their faces. Some were even practising their fighting skills; at least Clary hoped they were practising.

The others started moving forward, leaving Clary a few feet behind. She had to take it all in, the surroundings, the noises, even the people. Clary had read about the school, but never in her sixteen years as a Shadowhunter had she thought she would ever get a chance to see it in action. She smiled to herself, even as much as Clary hated the thought of going to the school, she could not help letting the beauty of it all sink in.

A pain, like small stings, hit Clary as she realised something. These people had probably all been affected by the war; they had lost people they loved. How could she just invade their homes like this, first she ruined their lives by causing a demon attack on Alicante, and now she would force them to see her every day. In that moment, looking at the school, the students, at Jace, Iwan, and the Lightwoods, Clary could not think of anything worse than to attend this school. She wanted to take her stele and paint a portal, leave it all behind her.

Jace turned around, meeting Clary's emerald eyes. He must have read her mind, because he stopped too. "You guys go ahead, we'll meet you there." He told the others, letting Isabelle, Max and Iwan disappear towards the great building.

"You okay?" He asked, taking her hand in his.

"Yeah, why shouldn't I be?" Clary asked a bit too harsh.

"I don't know, just the fact that you have dreaded this moment for the last two months." He replied, unaffected by her sudden change of attitude.

Clary pressed her lips together before answering, "It just… it seems very wrong, I don't fit in here, Jace. Look around, some of these people probably lost a parent, or worse, two, because of me. Because of what I did. It's hard enough to look at Isabelle and Alec, seeing their pain, knowing that if I hadn't been here, Robert would still be here!" The panic in Clary's voice escalated with each word she breathed, and the expression on Jace's face changed.

"Clary," Jace sent her one of the most genuine smiles she had ever seen, "I've said this before, and I'll say it again and again until you can finally let yourself believe it, nothing that happened that day was your fault. You saved everyone, Clary." He held her gaze as he spoke. Both Shadowhunters turned around as a voice spoke up behind them.

"Hey, Herondale!" A boy with dark curly locks smiled a bright smile their way as he came towards them, "Who on earth would think you would ever show your face here again?" he laughed, hitting Jace in the shoulder as he spoke.

"Not me, that's for sure." Jace answered, sending his nameless friend a signature smirk.

"Everyone were talking about it, or should I say gossiping. No one knew for sure, but hey, I'm glad you're back," he looked at Clary for a few seconds before his gaze landed on Jace again, "It's been quite boring around here without our infamous troublemaker to keep things interesting."

"Great to know I've been missed, Micah." Jace replied, his voice tense this time. This made Clary cast him a look, her green eyes trying to find his, but he was looking in another direction.

"I think we," Jace nodded towards Clary, "should check in, Izzy and the others are waiting for us inside." He smiled short, "It was great to see you, Micah." Clary got the feeling it was actually not that great to see this Micah.

Jace started to walk away, Clary following at his side. "What was that all about?" Clary asked.

"All what?" Jace replied, sending her a confused look.

"The whole, 'Infamous troublemaker', 'great to see you too, Micah,' thing." Clary changed her voice, trying to make it sound like Jace. The blond boy cracked a smile, "First of all, I don't sound like that at all, and second, nothing is up with that." Jace smirked in his normal, half-hearted way.

"If you say so, Herondale." Clary answered annoyed, causing Jace to send her a narrowed look in return.

Clary opened the door to the Academy, rolling her eyes at the sight that hit her. The whole place was very Institute-like on the inside. There was a massive hall with doors on either side; the doors had markings on them. Isabelle and the others were nowhere to see, not that Clary had much time to think about that. A woman's voice rang out behind them, "Mr. Herondale, Miss Morgenstern, how nice of you to finally join us."

Clary turned around to find the source of the voice. It belonged to a tall woman, she had pulled her hair into a tight bun and a delicate smile covered her lips. The woman held out a hand for Clary to shake. "My name is Lily Branwell, the dean of the academy."

Clary made no attempts of smiling back at her, she only replied with a short nod. Dean Branwell, if annoyed by Clary's attitude, hid it well. The woman kept her smile warm on her lips, "I am sure this is a very new experience for you Miss Morgenstern, but I assure you that we are all delighted to have you here at our academy." She explained, her voice keeping the same welcoming tone.

"Yeah, I am incredibly delighted to be here as well." Clary replied, a hint of a laugh escaped Clary's lips, and she could see Jace cringe at the sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Okay." Dean Branwell clapped her hands together, "Why don't I show you to your room Clarissa, the sooner you can get ready, the better. We are expecting you to join your regular classes after lunch." The dean turned towards Jace, "Mr. Herondale I assume you already know where you are supposed to go, third floor-" the woman was cut off by Jace's self-satisfied smile, "down the corridor, fifth door to the right. I know, Lils."

The blond woman sent Jace a disapproving look, "Mr. Herondale, don't make me send you to detention on your first day back."

Jace chuckled, "Of course, Dean Branwell," he answered, a smirk on his lips. He sent Clary a more calming smile, as if he was mentally telling her 'you can do this', before he left in the exact direction he had explained earlier. The whole scene surprised Clary; it was very out of character behaviour for the Jace she knew. On the other hand, when she got to think about it, it might have been very in character behaviour for the Jace she knew when they were still on surname terms.

"Now, Miss Morgenstern, are you ready?" Dean Branwell had her big smile back on her lips.

"Sure." Clary nodded, picking up her bags with great effort.

She tried to memorize the route she was walking through, but the whole academy looked the same. Each door the same grey-wooden colour, each sconce placed at the exact same place and there were nothing significantly different from any other area of the building.

"Here we are." The dean told her, pointing at a door with the number '428' in small metal numbers. She could remember that, fourth floor, room twenty-eight.

Clary opened the door with a careful manner, taking in the sight of the room.

"Now, if you would find yourself in need of anything, you can find me in my office. Don't be afraid to ask me for help." Branwell's calm voice explained to her.

"Thank you, but I don't think that will be necessary." Clary replied disinterested, she already knew she would not need anything. Lily Branwell left, leaving Clary alone in the small bedroom.

When Clary turned around, she noticed there were two beds inside the room. "No." Clary mumbled. The room was already a little messy, clothes lay tossed over the end of the bed frame. Mundane clothing. Clary sighed, she did not sign up for this.

Clary dropped her bags on the floor next to the clean bed. She could hear the shower running, which only confirmed her fears. She contemplated going straight to Dean Branwell, demanding a change. She really had never signed up for this. Not the school and definitely not a roommate.

"Oh my God." A voice called from the other side of the room. Clary looked up, finding herself staring at an almost naked girl. Her new roommate must not have known she would be here, because she had stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

"Oh my God!" Clary replied shocked.

"I cannot believe nobody told me you were coming today, I would have cleaned up a bit and organised my things. I am so sorry about the mess." The girl spoke fast.

"No, it's fine. I'm not really staying here." Clary answered.

"What? No you have to!" The girl told her surprised, "I am not going a whole semester without a roommate, that's just unfair."

"That's really not my problem." Clary rolled her eyes at the girl, "Should you not, you know, get dressed?" Clary asked in an awkward voice, seeing as the girl just stood there.

"Oh, yeah, of course." She answered, getting her clothes, and running towards the bathroom.

Clary sat down on the bed, exhaling irritated. She was not staying here.

After a few minutes, the girl entered the room again. "Okay, so this might be a bit more appropriate." She smiled happy, pointing at her blue jeans and a floral-printed top.

"You think?" Clary mumbled sarcastic.

"I'm so happy you are here, I mean, it's been so boring living here alone for the past few months. Oh, and my name is Rhiannon, by the way, Rhiannon Thompson," Rhiannon explained, speaking so fast, Clary could not believe she had the time to breathe.

"Clary." Clary introduced herself short.

"I know. I mean, everyone knows, you are kind of a hero. Saving the whole race of the Nephilim and everything." Rhiannon kept chatting on.

Clary raised an eyebrow, "No, I'm not." She replied angry, "I didn't save anyone."

"Of course you did, I wouldn't be surprised if you are included in the next edition of the 'A Shadowhunter's history through the millennium'," Rhiannon smiled.

"Do you mean The Shadowhunter's Codex?" Clary asked annoyed.

"Yeah, I know what it's called, I have a copy. It was just an expression."

"An expression?" Clary repeated sarcastic.

"Yeah, like 'Kill two birds with one stone' or 'Jump on the bandwagon'." Rhiannon explained, leaving Clary more confused than annoyed, "I really don't think that's the right-, or you know what, never mind. I don't even know what a bandwagon is, you might be right." Clary sighed, pulling off her shoes.

"Oh, it's just this mundane wagon which carries, like a, a band in a parade." The blond girl tried to explain, suddenly blushing, "And of course, you don't really care." Rhiannon added when she saw Clary's disinterested look.

Clary realised something she had not noticed before, "You're a mundane?" Clary asked the red-faced girl.

"I prefer Shadowhunter-to-be, but, based on my lack of runes, yeah." Rhiannon answered.

Surprised, Clary asked, "You're an Ascender?"

"Well, obviously." Rhiannon laughed.

"I got to go." Cary muttered. She had no idea the Clave was still doing the whole Ascension process. It was dangerous, people died. They were already enough Nephilim. Why would they need to risk the lives of young mundanes?

"No, please!" Rhiannon called out, "I really, really need a roommate."

"Rhiannon, what happened to your former roommate?" Clary asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

Rhiannon seemed startled by Clary's question. "Ehm," she brushed her fingers through her damp, blond hair. "Alli, she, she died." The girl's voice changed, her forever-happy tone died, "It was a few months ago. In the war."

Clary's stomach tightened into a knot, had she heard the girl right? She felt like all air was sucked out of her lungs, she was unable to breathe another word.

"I really need to speak with Branwell." Clary managed to tell the girl staring at her, but before Rhiannon could retaliate, Clary disappeared through the door, into the hall outside.

It was easier to find Dean Branwell's office than Clary had imagined, but it might have been her anger taking her there, rather than her sense of direction.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Clary yelled as she opened the door to the dean's office.

"Miss Morgenstern." Branwell replied calm, "I have to say, that was sooner than I had imagined."

"Yeah, well, when you expect me to take a dead girl's bed, I find that rather problematic." Clary spat at her, "Did you really think I'd be fine with this? A mundane roommate, who used to have a roommate that I basically killed," Clary closed the door behind her, her voice escalating with each word that left her lips.

"Clarissa," the dean spoke in a calm tone, her smile never leaving her face, "You did not kill Allison Reed. A demon did."

"I don't care what you think, I never agreed to this. I'm going home, and I dare you to try and stop me." Clary's acerbic tone made the dean cringe.

"Clarissa, it was never my intention to hurt you, I did not think it would be a problem." Lily Branwell replied.

"You didn't hurt me, I just find your way of thinking to be.. I don't know, fucked up, to be honest."

"Excuse me?" Branwell raised an eyebrow; her smile had finally faded from her lips, making the dean look older and more serious.

"No, you're not excused." Clary snapped back sarcastic. She might have spoken in the heat of the moment, but she did not regret it.

"Miss Morgenstern, this really is no way to speaking, not to me and not to anyone else." Branwell picked up a pen, "Now, I suggest you go back to your room, and head to your first class. If you do so, I will make sure we can all forget about this little misunderstanding, won't you agree?" Branwell continued, using the 'we' when speaking only about herself. Clary remembered her father used to do that form time to time.

Clary let out a harsh laughter, "I'm not done!" she looked at the dean, "Look, I promise you, I was really going to try and make the best out of this horrible situation, but that's over. You can't expect me to be fine with this, and if you do-" Clary looked up at the dean, leaning on the table before her, "well, why don't _we _say, I'm definitely going to make this semester, _interesting_." Clary threatened, but the dean never broke eye contact with her.

"If you are done, Miss Morgenstern, you can go." Clary noticed anger covering the usually calm voice of the woman.

"Whatever." Clary muttered fiery before she turned around, slamming the door closed when she left the room.

xxxx

"You can't just go around threatening everyone who doesn't agree with you, Clary!" Isabelle's voice was a whisper, but it still sounded like an annoyed whine.

"Of course I can," Clary argued, "She did it on purpose, they are probably testing me. Seeing how well I'll adapt into the normal Shadowhunter society, but you know what? Screw them."

"You're just being paranoid, the Clave trusts you." Isabelle mumbled down in the desk, keeping her mouth hidden from the Rune-teacher. Clary's first period after lunch was 'Runes of the Grey Book'. Not that Clary really needed that class, but she was obligated to attend anyway.

"Trust me? Now, Isabelle, that might be the funniest thing I've heard today, and I've heard a lot of great jokes this morning." Clary answered, but sarcasm rolled over her voice.

"Ha-ha, funny." Isabelle whispered back, "but it's not like Rhiannon is that bad either, she's one of the nicest people I know." Isabelle told her, smiling slightly, "Maybe a little overenthusiastic, but a great personality."

"The mundane is not the problem, Izzy; it's the room, the person I replaced." Clary explained again.

"Okay, I'm sorry Clary, it sucks, but can't you at least try and make the best of it?" Isabelle asked.

"No." Clary muttered, her voice taking an angry tone again.

"Miss Lightwood, Miss Morgenstern, do you think you are above this class?" Mr. Blackthorn asked strictly.

Isabelle clutched Clary's overarm hard, "NO. No, Mr. B, we do not." She answered for the both of them, "Sorry."

"I wasn't going to say anything." Clary mumbled low, making Isabelle shake her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I'm still going to fight her though." Clary finished the conversation, turning back to her blank paper.

* * *

So that's it for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. And let me know if there is anything you would like to see happening in this story, I'd love to hear your great ideas!


	3. No game

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Thanks for all the great reviews, hope you're all having a wonderful summer.

* * *

The boy stepped out of the crowd and walked over to the open training field. He covered his nerves with a brilliant smile. An infamous smile he shared oh-so-proudly with both his father and older brother. A few of his classmates cheered him on as he stepped next to the large man who went by 'Professor Kingsmill'.

"Take that," Professor Kingsmill point to the long double-edged sword lying on the ground next to a dozen other very fascinating, yet very lethal weapons, "Great, now Herondale, I expect you know what comes next." He wasn't exactly taunting Iwan, but the comment left a smirk on the professor's lips.

"Yep." Iwan answered confident. Because he did. He did know exactly what he was supposed to do. That was one of the benefits of having the best sword fighter at the school as a brother. Or maybe now that Clary had enrolled here, he had the second best sword fighter at the school as a brother.

"Okay then, let's see what you're made of."

The sword was heavy, too heavy for at least half of the Nephilim standing around him to pick it up, and definitely too heavy for every single mundane to even lift it off the ground. Iwan didn't show his struggles though, he bit the insides of his cheeks, tightened the muscles in his arms and held the blade before him.

"Reed." Kingsmill raised his voice.

"Ye-yes." A mundane from Iwan's class took a few, less confident steps than Iwan had, towards their professor. "Pick a weapon."

'_No. Don't do this._' Iwan wanted to say the words aloud, but something inside him kept the words silent. Finn Reed was the younger brother of Sarah Reed. Sarah Reed was the twin sister of Allison Reed, which Iwan had heard died in the war. And Iwan really did not want to fight Finn.

"Can't you pick someone else?" Iwan whispered, more to himself than to the professor, but he noticed Kingsmill's expression changed, he heard him.

"Pick a weapon."

"Ok." The boy walked over to the swords lying on the ground. Hesitant, but trying to keep his fear masked behind a brave smile. No one cheered this time. Not because they didn't like Finn. He was a nice guy. But because they all knew Iwan and Finn would have to fight. And during a fight, especially when Kingsmill was so closely watching them, there was no faking it.

"That one? Okay, Reed, if you say so." Kingsmill laughed, clapping the young boy on his shoulder.

Kingsmill picked up two black vests that were designed to protect them against the training swords. Iwan remembered a few years ago, when Jace had hit him in the stomach with the tip of a sword. Iwan had screamed, thinking that when he got up, he would be covered in blood. That never happened. Partly because Jace was Jace, and Jace knew what he was doing, and partly because the vest would not let something as simple as a training sword penetrate the vest.

Iwan pulled the straps of the vest across his shoulders and sighed.

"Herondale, you will fight as the defensive, and Reed you're going to be in offensive."

That was good. At least he wouldn't have to worry about hurting the other boy.

"Impress me." The teacher said, a smirk covering his face.

xxxx

Clary leaned back against the wall. Watching as Isabelle walked towards the middle of the room. A few people were watching, but mostly, the other students were too busy worrying about their own fights to stop and stare.

Isabelle smiled, reaching for a Jack Bellefleur's hand. He shook it, a charming smile crossed his face as he let go of her hand. Clary could see their mouths move. Isabelle nodded her head, before throwing her thin golden whip across the floor. Jack did the same, only with a short slivery sword falling from his hand.

They fought with their fists, and Clary could see Jack smirk as he hit the dark haired girl hard in the shoulder. Isabelle stumbled backwards and Clary could see Isabelle mentally curing herself.

Isabelle regained her balance, attacking the boy with everything she had. If Jack had been confident in his fighting before, that was completely gone now. He blocked her attacks well, Clary would give the boy that much, but he could not find the right moment to attack back.

She rolled her eyes, "Use your damn legs, idiot." Clary whispered at the boy.

"Izzy wouldn't be all too happy knowing you're rooting for her ex-boyfriend." The voice came from Clary's right.

"I'm not, it's just frustrating, the guy is just too stupid to realise Izzy is in fact giving him the perfect opportunity to take her out." Clary looked up at Jace, "You see her legs? They are way too close together, if Bellefleur were to use his fucking legs, he would have her on the ground in a second." Her voice grew more and more irritated as she spoke.

Jace nodded, and observing the fight he added, "Yeah, you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Clary turned towards him with a smirk on her lips, "I'm Clary Morgenstern."

"Yes, you are." He nodded, "And I'm Jace Herondale."

"I know." Clary rolled her eyes irritated, "Why are you always doing that, it's stupid, and irritating."

"Oh, were we not introducing ourselves?" he asked with a curved smile on his lips, pushing a piece of Clary's hair away from her shoulder, "Because I wouldn't mind getting to know you a little better, if you know what I mean."

"I don't think I do understand you, Jace Herondale." Clary whispered, looking up at him, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at his silliness.

"I guess I will have no other choice than to show you then, Clary Morgenstern." He whispered back, he was close enough for Clary to feel the heat of his body.

"Stop it, there are people here." Clary pushed him away. Jace let out a short laugh, "Fine, I don't mind showing you later." He said matter-of-factly.

"I don't doubt that for even a second." Clary answered just in time to hear her own name from across the room.

"Clarissa Morgenstern. Micah Lovelace." Clary could feel Jace touch her arm, as if he wanted to grab her arm and hold her back, but decided against the idea a few seconds later.

Clary smirked, "Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. I'm Clary Morgenstern."

"That's not making it better." Jace told her, "Don't. Kill. Him." Jace laughed, as she moved across the floor.

Clary just smiled at his words, before she met the broad grin of Micah Lovelace.

"Ready Morgenstern?" He asked, his voice jumping between playful and almost angry.

"Always." Clary replied, putting on the black vest they'd been given in sword-training class with that grumpy old teacher 'Kingsmill'.

The rapier felt familiar in Clary's grip, and as she noticed Micah's weapon of choice, she laughed. "Really? You think that will do any harm?" she asked, a laughter covering her voice.

"You don't?" He asked, swinging the two knives up in the air and catching them gracefully one in each hand.

"Not really, but I would love for you to surprise me." Clary answered, an easier tone between the two Nephilim.

"I want no attacks made above the neck, and if one of you were to give up, the opponent is to stop immediately, I want no serious injuries in my class. Is that understood?" Coach Hayward told them, but her eyes were lingering on Clary as she spoke.

"Yeah, whatever." Clary mumbled. Followed by Micah's charming, "Of course."

Clary stood still, allowing Micah to attack first. And he took the opportunity. His arms were faster than Clary had originally though. One. Two. Three. He stuck fast. Giving her no time to stop his attacks.

"Oh, surprise Morgenstern, we're not all unskilled armatures like you thought." He smirked, quoting Clary words from a few months back. Micah was a Lovelace, and Clary had said those words to one person specifically, 'Abby Lovelace'.

"I don't know, nothing has really caught my eye yet to prove me wrong." Clary answered, swinging her sword at the side of his ribcage.

He stumbled backwards, giving Clary the time to gain the offensive position.

"But I think something just proved_ you_ wrong." Clary said, her breath a little uneven.

Micah didn't answer, Clary could see the boys dark curls fall into his eyes, and in the rush of the moment he did not have time to brush them back. He seemed angrier with her than he had the right to be. His eyes darkening. His small smirk turning more malicious than its earlier playfulness.

Clary barely had time to dodge the knife as it came flying through the air. She noticed the boy backed away as he threw the sharp knife at her. His eyes large and scared. Like he had not been aware of his own action.

Clary didn't have time for the other Shadowhunter's foolishness, she scraped the black vest across Micah's torso as hard as she could manage, bringing him down on the floor. He looked up at her, his eyes mixed with a weird emotion-trip. He wanted to be angry, but he looked so confused. He wanted to fight back, but he looked so confused. He wanted to give up, but the pride of his Nephilim blood made him stand back up.

"What the hell Micah?" Clary recognised Isabelle's voice. She turned her head enough to see the two of them surrounded by at least haft the class, and more Shadowhunters were on their way over to the circle.

"You threw it at her head, that's unfair." Someone said.

"She's better than him, she can take it." Another voice cheered her on.

Clary noticed Micah turning white. His eyes fixed on her.

"Come on Micah!" A girl yelled.

"Yeah, don't give up now!" The guy next to her shouted, a grin on his lips.

xxxx

Iwan jumped away from the heavy sword about to crash into his shoulder.

"Come on Herondale, that's how a coward blocks. Use your weapon!" The teacher commented.

Iwan nodded once. He knew Finn would never stand a chance against him if Iwan really tried. He wanted to really try, but at the same time, he didn't want Finn to make such an fool out of himself. It might be a really Herondale-ish thing to think, knowing he was better than the other fighter, but it was true.

Iwan blocked the next attack with more force. His sword meeting the metal of Finn's sword with a loud 'bang'. To Iwan's surprise, Finn was ready with another attack just a few seconds later. Another loud 'bang' as metal his metal.

Iwan backed up. Finn moved forward. Finn attacked. Iwan blocked. Iwan jumped to the side as Finn tried another, very predictable attack.

"SURPRISE HIM, REED!" Kingsmill shouted.

There were a few seconds of silence. Nothing happened. Finn stood with his sword pointing at the ground, until he did something that indeed surprised Iwan. The young boy's sword hit the grass, cutting off the top of a few small green tips. The sword hammered against Iwan's foot. Had it been a real fighting sword, Iwan would probably have lost his lower leg.

He crashed to the ground, a pain in his ankle so intense that Iwan didn't know if it came from the sword or him bending his ankle in the fall.

"Shit." He heard Finn mumble. The boy seemed shocked by his own strength. Like he didn't know he had it in him.

"Shit, are you okay?" Finn asked, dropping his weapon and running over to Iwan, who red faced and dirty, got up from the green grass.

"Yeah, I'm good. That was really awesome, Finn." Iwan tried to sound happy for the boy, but he knew there was the slightest tone of irritation in his voice.

xxxx

Clary met Jace's gaze, but her boyfriend was too engrossed in the fight to give her any sort of hint as to what she should do. Fight back? Back down? No way. Clary didn't have the strength to back down, not even when her opponent looked as bewildered by his own actions as Micah did right then.

Clary swung her rapier at him, hitting his hip hard. That would leave a mark.

Micah stood still though, his eyes fixed on her. Clary finally stopped too. Something was not right. Why would he not attack her when she so obviously wasn't done fighting him?

"You okay?" She asked, quietly, the words were exchanged between the two fighting Shadowhunters only.

"Yeah?" Micah replied. His eyes turned normal again, his expression changed back to the carefree grin he had when they had met a few days ago.

The knife he had in his left hand ripped across Clary's vest, his smile turning into a smirk. "You should never back down from a fight, Morgenstern. Haven't daddy though you that much?" Clary didn't know if he was trying to get her temper rising. But he did. She pointed her sword at the boy. Throwing all her muscles into the next attack. She heard the sound before she saw the damage. Like a reverse lightning and thunder.

A few students gasped. Clary dropped her rapier. Blood streamed from the vest. The unbreakable vest.

"What the fuck?" Someone yelled. It took Clary a few seconds to understand it was Micah's voice. "Oh my god, oh my god." He was already on the ground, his fingers pressing on the thin wound.

Clary's mind exploded with thoughts. If she hurt another student, they could charge her with that. The Clave was only looking for something to send her away forever. They had probably sent her here, only waiting for the moment where she would screw up. Oh how they would laugh at how soon that moment came.

"Everybody MOVE!" the professor yelled. She already had her stele out. Ready to draw an i_ratze_. Micah would be fine. She had probably just scraped him. Nothing too serious. Noting life threatening.

"Clary." The voice belonged to Jace. He must have noticed the panic that swept across her face.

"Clary." He repeated, "Come, you're bleeding."

Clary hadn't noticed she too was bleeding pretty heavily. How had that happened? Had Micah cut her when he fell? Had she cut herself as she swung her rapier?

"They're going to throw me out? I'm going to the Silent City. Jace, oh God I don't like that place at all." Clary's panicked voice was nothing but a whisper. "I don't like it. The cold makes everything seem so dead." She continued as Jace pulled her through the corridors. "I don't like it." Clary's shoulder was still seeping with hot, red blood.

"I know." Jace answered finally. "I know, and you're not going anywhere."

"I didn't mean to hurt him. I really didn't mean to hurt him." Clary told Jace, who smiled carefully, "I know, everybody knows that. Nobody blames you, Clary, it was the vest."

"I could have killed him. If I had pushed a bit harder, I could have killed him."

"But you didn't. Micah is fine." Clary felt a small, heated sting on her right arm. Jace pressed his stele against her pale skin.

"But I.."

"Micah. Is. Absolutely. Fine." Jace spoke quietly, pulling the distressed Clary into a hard, but warm embrace.

"And so are you. You're not going anywhere."

Clary rested her head on his shoulder. Her shirt sticking against his white shirt, colouring the fabric a deep red colour.

"Where are we?" Clary asked after a few, very long minutes.

Jace laughed against her neck. "I thought you would never ask." He told her, "Welcome to my room."

"You live here?" Clary laughed, regaining her senses.

"Yeah, and don't say it like that. It's nice."

"Mhm, it is. It's a bit too nice." Clary answered sitting down on the white bed. There were nothing on the walls, nothing on the bed stand. Nothing on the floor.

"What are you? A vampire?"

"Very funny." Jace answered sitting down next to her.

"No seriously, what are you?" Clary motioned around the room, awestruck, "Nothing living can keep anything this clean."

"I can." He answered with a smile.

"Weird."

"Oh shut up." He laughed, "before I give you that lesson on 'Jace Herondale 101' right now."

"'Jace Herondale 101'?" Clary laughed.

"Yeah, was that too much?" He asked, smiling.

"Just a little bit, but I like it." Clary replied, "And I wouldn't mind."

"Wouldn't mind what?"

"That lesson." Clary smirked

"Oh."

Clary felt his lips brush against hers, his lips still in a brilliant grin. She moved closer. Closing any and all space that might have been between the two of them.

"I don't mind this lesson at all." Clary whispered as Jace's lips ran across her neck, sweet and silly.

"Me neither." He breathed.

Clary kissed his mouth a little harder, making it all take a turn towards the more serious part. Jace pulled carefully at her shirt, making Clary move away. "If clothes are coming off, I think you should at least know I never really understood why you call me Ariel. I know you've tried to explain it like ten times, but it's just stupid."

Jace laughed, "I know you don't get it, and no, it's not stupid." Jace told her, kissing her mouth lightly. Clary's shirt was on the floor.

"And I don't like Taki's. Like at all. It tastes like garbage packed in a box labelled 'Chinese food'"

"What? You don't like Taki's?" He gasped. Jace's shirt was on the floor.

"Nope." Clary replied, kissing his collarbone.

"Traitor." He whispered, unbuttoning her jeans.

"Sorry." She replied, pulling at the jean legs. "I can't help who I am."

"I like it when you are yourself. You're so much more fun." Jace changed topic.

"I'm always fun." Clary said, pressing back a moan when his lips hit her just above her belly button.

"No, you're not. Only when you're comfortable. You should try to be comfortable a bit more." Jace laughed.

"You can't just BE comfortable, Jace." Clary answered, leaning back in his clean bed.

"You can try to be." Jace argued, pulling at his own jeans.

Clary's hands explored his torso like fire kissing wood. Running fast over him, trying to touch everything at the same time. He pulled her closer to him, the weight of him on top of her almost undetectable. She scraped her nails against the skin on his back, smiling as a strange sound left his lips. Her thumbs pulled at the blond boy's only piece of clothing left, when a door flew open.

"NO!" he yelled. "NO, I DID NOT SEE ANYTHING!" Jonathan, of all people. Jonathan was standing in the doorway.

"Damn you, Herondale. I hate you. God, you know I can't un-see that!" he yelled through the now closed door.

Clary felt her cheeks heat up. She pulled her shirt over her head and forced her jeans on both her legs. "Fuck." She mumbled. The sound of Jace's laughter made her even redder. "Don't you dare laugh at this, Herondale. This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Jace laughed, "How could I know your brother would show up?" He asked.

"I don't know, I just know that somehow, this is your fault." Clary replied.

"You're weird, Clary." Jace kissed her temple before standing up, opening the door with a grin spread across his face. "All clear." He said.

"What the hell was that?" Jon asked, looking at Clary.

"Two people making out, Jon. You might not know much about it, but that's what it looks like." Clary answered, her voice annoyed.

"I know what- I've done- you know, just forget it." Jon sighed, "I didn't come here because of you two and your, whatever the hell it is." He looked from Jace, who hadn't bothered putting his shirt and jeans back on, to his sister.

"I came because I heard what happened."

"What? How?"

"Inquisitor Lovelace called mum, I told her I would check up on you. She was kind of freaking out, and I didn't want her to upset you. I didn't know where your room was, so I guessed I could ask him, and, yeah here you are." Jon rolled his eyes.

"Well, it was really nice of you to come, brother, but as you can see, I am very, very ok." Clary answered, getting up from the bed.

"So I can see."

"So you can leave." Clary guided her brother out of the room, her hand on his back.

"I'm telling mum." Jon threatened.

"Then I'll tell her you hooked up with that faerie in Hyde Park a few weeks ago. I wonder what will be more shocking. Me kissing my boyfriend, or you kissing the prettier, deadlier version of the devil."

"I don't think there's a deadlier version of the devil." Jon raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, believe me, there is." Clary patted her brother on the back, "If it's not the faerie. I know someone else, her name is Jocelyn Fairchild." Clary smirked.

"I hate you." Jon mumbled.

"I love you too, brother." Clary kissed his cheek, turning around to leave him alone in the hallway, a smile covering her lips as she walked back towards Jace's room.

* * *

So as you can see, shit is starting to happen. Maybe it won't be long until Clary understands a little bit more about what's going on.


	4. Five of Hearts

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

ugggghhh, I'm so sorry guys. I should have updated a long time ago, but my motivation has just been at zero for so long. I'll try to get a few more chapter up as fast as possible!

Enjoy.

* * *

"Five of Hearts."

A pair of piercing blue eyes looked into hers. "I call..." he stopped, looking at the girl's natural smirk.

"Go on." She announced.

"Bullshit." He said, less confident.

"Just a friendly tip, from one Shadowhunter to another," Clary smiled, putting down the old card. Five of Hearts. "Don't bullshit me, baby Herondale."

"Can you stop calling me that?" Iwan asked rolling his eyes.

"When you can get your shit together and actually win this game you oh-so-proudly called yourself the 'master of' earlier, we can discuss it." Clary smiled. Her voice was as cold and bored as always, but her smile warmed her features.

"Ha-ha." Iwan faked, his cards still clutched in his hands. He had spent a little time with Clary the past few days, because the Morgenstern girl had been avoiding her classes. Iwan didn't really know what had happened, but a rumour floating around the Academy told the tale of how Clarissa Morgenstern, daughter of Valentine Morgenstern, the most evil Nephilim of the century, tried to kill a boy. Something Iwan though sounded highly unlikely, but rumours were always based on some sort of truth. Whatever Clary had done, she could not hate herself more for it even if she tried.

Iwan put down his cards, "You know what?" he asked, "I don't want to play this stupid game no more." He didn't wait for Clary's guess, mostly because it wouldn't come.

"Fine." Clary nodded, "Tired of always losing?" she smirked.

"No, but I have to get to class, something you should consider, too." He told her, his voice sounded childish as he spoke.

"I can take care of myself, Iwan." Clary snapped at him, getting up from the chair she was sitting in.

"I didn't say you couldn't." Iwan answered, "I just think you're being really stupid for throwing away what you have here."

"What did you just say?" Clary hissed annoyed.

"I said-"

"No, you idiot, I heard you." Clary rolled her eyes.

"Oh, so that was just for a dramatic effect?" Iwan laughed, watching Clary's eyes turn darker with her easily playable temper.

"Iwan, go to class." She said, her tone too calm for Iwan's wit to throw another comment her way. He nodded, threw his backpack over his shoulder and left.

Clary watched as the blond boy left the library.

Clary had a thing for libraries. They were always so quiet, most people tended to stay as far away from libraries as they could get. Not that Clary understood why. The Shadowhunter Academy had what Clary believed to be all the books created by Shadowhunter and Downworlders in the world. They even held mundane books within their shelves, like _Little Women, A Tale Of Two Cities_ and even a book called _Dracula_, which after picking it up, Clary thought it contained the best description of a vampire she'd ever read. The author of the Codex really could learn a thing or two from that book.

Clary moved to pick out a new book. She traced the books with her finger, reading the letter taped across the book's spine. A quiet _click_ came from the other side of the room, and Clary turned.

"Shouldn't you be in class, Morgenstern?" a voice asked, a hint of sarcasm hiding behind his breath.

"Shouldn't you?" she replied annoyed.

"Of course," he laughed, "We have the same class."

Clary didn't bother giving the boy an answer.

"So, why are you still in hiding?" he asked, moving across the room.

"And why would I be in hiding?" Clary snorted loud.

"I dunno, maybe because everyone thinks you went all dark on me during the last AF class?"

It was true, she'd been avoiding everyone since the last advanced fighting class. It wasn't like she hadn't heard their whispers and noticed how everyone took a step back when she walked past them.

"Why the hell would I care what people think happened?" Clary asked Micah, who now stood only a few feet away from her. Leaning against the J to K section of the shelf.

"I don't know, because you really shouldn't. It was the vest, not you." He told her, sending her a cheeky smile, "Not that I don't think you could have done that if you wanted to, though." He added.

"Get lost." She snapped.

"Hey, hey, that was a compliment, Morgenstern." Micah laughed.

"And I don't really care." Clary looked at the boy, rolling her eyes.

Micah grinned, "Fine, I don't have to play nice," he bit the hollows of his cheeks, "I just wanted you to know I don't hold a grudge against you or anything."

Clary let out a cold laugh, "Lucky me."

Micah stepped back, "Whatever, Morgenstern, I don't have time for your childish behaviour." He turned around to leave.

"I'm sorry?" Clary laughed, "My childish behaviour?"

"Yeah." Micah replied.

"I'm not the one who came in here trying to get an apology out of someone who's not done shit to you." Clary's eyes darkened as she spoke.

"YOU STABBED ME!" Micah exclaimed frustrated.

"So? Do you really think you won't ever get hurt when you're out there, fighting the real enemy?"

"I-" Micah began, but Clary cut him off, "You're a damn Shadowhunter, Lovelace, act like one."

Clary noticed how Micah's cheeks and neck started to turn a hot red colour. His eyes left Clary, moving to his own two feet instead.

"Now, if there is not anything else completely unimportant you want to discuss, Lovelace, I have more important things to attend to today." Clary smirked, sending the boy storming angry through the library doors.

A few first year students, mundanes, Clary guessed by the lack of runes on their skin, looked at Clary with a fear burning in their features. One of them turned around as Micah disappeared out of sight. She pushed her friends along with her, getting out of Clary's way as fast as they possibly could.

All of Clary's surpressed anger was violently released on the nearest stack of books. Leaving a loud rumble as the books hit the floor. Clary new she'd been unreasonable with the other Shadowhunter, but he had been so incredibly right. Something that scared Clary more than anything else did. He was right about how she had been hiding and how she felt about what happened; it left Clary with a freezing feeling inside her. She hated when people were able to read her. She'd been used to Maggie and her father doing so, they knew her too well. Knew her every expression, her every emotion, but Micah, he'd barely ever spoken more than three words with her. How could he know how she felt?

xxxx

There was something wrong. He could feel it in the air. His already cold skin felt suddenly freezing. He heard the voices in the dark room, hoping they wouldn't notice him.

"Come out, come out where every you are, Lewis." _Crap._

Simon pushed himself further inside the dark room. Hiding himself from the voices.

"Daylighter?" A girly voice sang in the darkness.

"We know you're here, don't be so shy, Simon." This voice he recognised.

"It's not like we're going to hurt you." The same voice as earlier told him. Simon could almost hear the vampire's smirk.

"No, we're just going to torture you until you give us what we want." The singing girl jumped in.

"Think what we could do if we were able to walk in the sun, Simon, don't you want to give us that?" The man asked.

Simon was trapped. He could hear the footsteps coming closer. Damn that Morgenstern girl, why did _she_ have to be the _one_ Shadowhunter he ever fed on? Simon noticed he'd stopped breathing. As he pressed closer to the wall, he started to look for possible escape routes. Simon felt something hit his foot; or rather fall heavily on his foot. Making a crashing sound as he moved backwards.

The three vampires all turned towards the sound. Simon jumped up, running as fast as he could manage in the dark. He felt something hard slam into him shoulder, sending him flying through the air.

"Didn't really think you could get away that easily, huh, Lewis?" the man asked.

His strong fingers wrapped around Simon's neck. Simon tried to speak, but the pressure on his neck kept him quiet.

"Now, how about being a little bit more cooperative?" he laughed, making Simon slam his hand into the vampire's stomach. He knew why they were all tracking him down, trying to capture him. After what had happened a few months ago, when the New York clan had taken Isabelle's brother and the other kid, something crazy had happened. And it didn't take long before the other vampires started to notice it too. It all started when Simon had accidentally picked a fight with a vampire going by the name, Stark. It had been rather brutal, seeing as Stark wasn't the calmest soul to start with. Simon was sent crashing through a large window. Right onto the sunlit streets of New York. And he had lived to tell the tale. Simon had brushed the accident off as luck, crazy, unbelievable luck, but some didn't believe him.

The vampire groaned. Loosening the grip on Simon. Giving Simon just enough time to jump out of the man's way. He moved as fast as he could across the room, slamming the door open and running outside. The sun had just started to peek through the morning clouds. Sending a beautiful orange glow down on the pale boy's skin.

xxxx

"Hi, how's everything going, sweetheart?" Clary smiled as she heard her mother's voice through one of the Academy's phones.

"Never been better." Clary replied sarcastic.

"Now, I'm just going to pretend you seriously meant that." Jocelyn laughed through the phone.

"Mother of the year." Clary answered, a smile spread across her face.

"I try." Her mother replied.

"You know, you would be doing a much better job if you let me go home." Clary told her.

"And we both know that's out of the question." Jocelyn answered, "Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I couldn't have brought you home, sweetheart."

"I know. It's my punishment." Clary answered with a bitter tone in her voice.

"Clary." Her mother pleaded, "I know this isn't the most ideal situation for you, but it certainly could be worse."

"Wow, what a great method of motivation you have, mother." Clary told her mother angry.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Jocelyn sighed.

"You don't have to be sorry, mom, it's not really your fault." Clary admitted.

"Thanks." Her mother replied, relief showing in her voice.

The woman sitting behind the desk looked at Clary, "One minute."

Clary rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Clary I almost forgot," Jocelyn said excitedly, "Jon didn't want to say anything before he knew for certain, but he just got exchanged to London Institute."

Clary didn't reply right away, taking the words in carefully. "That's great, London Institute is really.. Prestigious." She answered.

"It is." Her mother replied happy, "But, don't you worry, Clary, he'll be home before you." Jocelyn laughed.

"Again, you sure know how to make someone feel better." Clary laughed.

"Times up." The woman behind the desk told Clary.

"But, you should tell him I'm happy for him, Jon needs to get out of the house a bit more often, it'll be good for him." Clary laughed.

"I'll tell him you said that." Jocelyn smiled.

"Times up." The woman repeated.

"Can't you see I'm still talking?" Clary muttered angry.

"I can, that's the problem."

Clary locked eyes with the grey-haired woman, a smirk forming on her lips, "You see this?" Clary help up her thumb and index finger, only an inch apart, "This is how much I care."

"Clary!" Jocelyn shouted into the phone after hearing her daughter speak.

"What?"

"You can't speak to someone that way!"

"I can speak whatever way I want." Clary snapped back.

The woman had turned away, clearly not wanting to anger the infamous Morgenstern girl.

"Clarissa, I will not-" Clary bit her lip, before breaking up her mother's sentence.

"Um, mom, I really can't talk." She told her, "You see, my time is up." Clary hung up, placing the phone on the desk before her mother had a chance to finish what she was saying.

* * *

Please give this a little review, and I'll give you a little update.


	5. Dark matters

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instruments. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Hope you like the chapter :)

* * *

He cracked his knuckles, listening to the sharp sound of his fingers popping. Anxiety running up and down his body as if he was a child sent to the principal's office for the first time. He picked up the pen again, wrote a few words, changed his mind, made a bold line across the page, and put the pen down again. Everything sounded either too stupid or like he didn't care at all. And he did. Simon was shocked beyond belief by how hard it was to make the words flowing inside his brain appear as smooth and intelligent as he wanted them to come across as when writing them down.

After another four pieces of paper tossed into a corner, he finally had it. He looked over the inked words, a few of them smudged out by his uncertain hands and he read aloud:

_I've never been a religious person, Clarissa Morgenstern, therefor I've never struggled with the holy words. Never believed in something heavenly, but I have started to doubt. As we have already discussed, and you so stubbornly denied credit for, I can now walk in the times of sunshine. I know there's a room inside your gut that knows the truth. I also know you have been through a lot, but who are you to decide whether or not I can be exposed to what you hide when that obviously involves me. Your mistakes are no longer just your mistakes, they are turning out to be mine as well. If we are connected by blood, I don't know, but I do know that secrets always have a way of coming out, Clary. There are people in the Downworld that aren't blind to the secrets I try to keep. I ask for you to meet me. A few minutes of your time would make this situation a lot easier to understand. I just want to know what I am. _

_In case this message ends up in the wrong hands; Next Saturday, 8 AM, the last place we spoke. _

_Simon Lewis_

Simon knew he didn't have many people in his life that he could trust. He hadn't spoken with Isabelle for past two months, he didn't trust any of the Children of the Night. If they did not already know about Simon's extraordinary powers, they would soon. And Vampires were not known for their loyalty and loving nature. They would rip him to pieces in the search for his secrets in the blink of an eye. He would have to be the one to deliver the letter, but to do so, he would need the help of a Warlock.

xxxx

"Who in their right mind would disturb me in such late hours?" The Warlock grunted as he slammed the door open.

Simon brushed his long fingers nervously through his curly dark hair. "Hi."

"And what do we have here, come in, come in, Daylighter." Magnus's voice changed, interest showing in his usually bored voice.

"I see words travel fast amongst our kinds."

"There is no "_our kinds_", I will not be associated with the bloodsucking killers that you call brothers." The Warlock flicked his hand in disgust.

"Neither do I, anymore at least." Simon answered.

"I'm sorry." Magnus nodded, "I really am."

"Thanks, but I'm not here because I need your pitty."

"I figured."

"What I do need, is a portal." Simon crossed his arms.

Magnus chuckled lightly, "A portal?"

"Yep." Simon tried to sound light, but his heart was beating faster and faster as he noticed Magnus' hesitation.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is for a Warlock, for anyone, to conjure portals nowadays?" Magnus asked.

"Considering the circumstances, my guess would be 'pretty darn difficult'." Simon laughed.

"And you are very right; the Clave has been tracking every portal since the Mortal War. Where it opens, where it is closes. And I would assume this trip, wherever it is to, is not legal."

Simon shrugged.

"And you might be aware of my relationship with the Nephilim at the moment. I'm trying to stay in the safe-zone… for a little while."

"Don't you mean your relationship with one Nephilim?" Simon grinned. Even as harsh as Magnus appeared on the outside- it amused Simon how someone covered in that much glitter and colours, still could appear cold and scary- he knew Magnus would help him. It was in the Warlock's nature to do so. They were friends. At least friendly. And Magnus helped his friends.

Simon could see the Warlock shake his head, covering his smile.

"That doesn't concern you."

"Of course not." Simon agreed.

"Now, where do you need to go?" Magnus turned his back to Simon, and poured himself a glass of a dark liquid drink. "Not that I am helping you or anything."

"Alicante."

Magnus snorted, "Are you mad?" he asked, "You wouldn't get as far as to set even one of your skinny little vampire legs inside the country of Shadowhunters."

"Have a little faith, Bane." Simon smiled.

"Faith? I would be sending you to prison."

"I have already figured out how to get out of any unwanted situation that might appear."

"Please, do tell." Magnus smirked, sipping his drink.

Simon extended his hand towards the man, which hesitantly shook it. "Nice to meet you, my name is, Marcus Makepeace, Shadowhunter from Melbourne Institute."

"Really? Posing as a Shadowhunter is your brilliant plan?" Magnus exhaled loudly.

"If I get there during daytime, nobody will even suspect me. I probably won't have to talk to anyone." Simon tried to explain.

"Magnus, you know I would never ask you to do something for me unless it was very important, please." Simon looked up, noticing the cat-like eyes shining bright in the dimmed light.

"Fine. But if you do get caught, don't you dare breathe a word about my helping hands."

"I won't" Simon promised, relieved that the Warlock agreed to his plan.

"And you will have to find your way back home alone."

"Didn't expect anything more."

"Good."

"Good." Simon pressed his lips together to keep his grin from widening.

xxxx

Clary leaned against the hilt of a heavy sword, the sharp tip pointing towards the floor.

"Are you trying to break the school record of most rules broken in the first two months?" Isabelle laughed beside her, sitting down.

"Didn't even know there were such a thing." Clary smiled, pressing the sword hard against the floor, "But now that I do know, I will definitely take it into my consideration."

Izzy smiled, watching the Shadowhunters before them fight loudly. Yells and angry comments came from Kingsmill as he watched a pair of Nephilim slap their swords lazily against each other.

"You call that fighting, Verlac, my grandmother fights better than that, and she's been dead for four decades." Kingsmill's voice bellowed into the face of the fighting student, who with his shaking hands almost struck Kingsmill in the leg as he turned around. Another round of shouts escaped the teacher.

"Come on, this is just humiliating." Isabelle laughed as she got back up, slapping Clary's shoulder lightly. "Pick a weapon, girl, you're not gonna stand here for the next hour."

"You want to fight me?" Clary smirked.

"I sure do." Isabelle smiled back.

Clary swung her sword around, "This should be fun."

The two girls stepped onto the fighting area, Clary looked at Isabelle's smile. She was glad to see the girl smiling as much as she had been since they came to the Academy, even though Clary hated the place, she couldn't help but notice how everyone else seemed to love it. The atmosphere surrounding the old buildings were warm, filled with laughter and friends reuniting. Having the time of their lives, the time of their lives before the real world hit them like a brick. Even though, some of the older students had tasted the cruel world they lived in, they too seemed to live in blissful ignorance as soon as they stepped inside the Academy.

Clary on the other hand, felt cold and lonely most of the time she spent behind the walls of the Nephilim Academy. Even more so than the months she had been trapped in the New York Institute.

"Ready?" Isabelle asked.

"Yeah, you?" Clary replied.

Instead of answering, Isabelle struck.

"I'll take that as a yes." Clary laughed, blocking Isabelle's sword.

Clary took in the sight of her opponent; Isabelle's hands were both on the hilt of the heavy sword, her shoulders tensed as she swung another time. The clashing sound of Isabelle's sword hitting Clary's made the red haired girl smile. Clary struck back, trying to find her friend's weak spots.

There were no denying Isabelle was good. She was really good, but she fought with a sword like she fought with a whip. Gracefully, but too light. She didn't carry the metal as heavy as she should. Clary struck again, and again. Catching Izzy off guard was unlikely, her eyes were just as intense as Clary's, but Clary noticed after blocking Isabelle's next attack, that the girl was tired.

"You sure you're up for this, Lightwood?" Clary smiled.

"Shut up." Isabelle breathed playfully.

Clary went for another attack, pointing her blade towards Isabelle's feet. Isabelle readied herself to jump.

Clary's eyes went wide; a small smirk crept up her cheek. She saw an opportunity, and she took it.

Clary grabbed her sword with both hands. As the girl had her feet in the air, Clary turned her sword in the other direction, tripping the girl in mid-air.

A few students who had silently watched their fight gasped as Isabelle hit the floor. She grunted angry as her back crashed against the training floor.

"IZZY!" Clary scolded, "You know better than that."

Isabelle rolled her eyes as Clary extended her hand to help the girl. Isabelle grabbed it.

The two girls heard a voice shout across the room, "And that is how you do a fight, Verlac." Kingsmill smacked the boy on the shoulder. A few of the nearby students laughed at the teacher's comment. Sebastian Verlac turned a shade of deep pink.

"Quick, carefully planned and with grace." Kingsmill stepped next to the two girls. Isabelle's smile had widened a little. "Very good, Lightwood, Morgenstern." Kingsmill nodded at them.

"Thanks, sir." Isabelle answered, Clary just shrugged.

The teacher was about to say something when another student spoke up, "But is not unfair, to compare us to her?"

Clary looked at the boy, it was Kristopher Van Der Walse, one of the dutch students at the school.

"And why would that be _unfair_?" Kingsmill asked.

"You know, she's got a bit more practice than us." Van Der Walse answered.

"So get yourself some more practise." The teacher answered annoyed.

"How? By going on a killing spree?" the boy asked. The two boys standing next to their friend looked at him with shocked expressions.

"Get out of my training hall, Van Der Walse."

The boy left. And before anyone noticed, so did Clary.

xxxx

Rage filled her. Rage beyond anything she had felt in a long time. She closed the door behind her, watching the student turn around by the sound.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Clary laughed, "I don't need to explain myself." She moved closer to the boy.

"When you stalk me, you do." The boy answered.

"For someone as powerless as yourself, you've got a big mouth." Clary told him.

"Maybe I ain't that powerless."

"I saw you in class, Van Der Walse, you don't have much to offer." Clary told him.

"Looks can be deceiving." The young Shadowhunter told Clary, smirking. He twiddled his thumbs, looking at the red-haired girl.

"But you know all about that, right Clary."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You stay here, pretend like you've changed, but in the end you are still just Valentine's daughter." He smiled.

Clary closed the space between the two of them, her hands curling around the boy's neck. "Don't you ever speak my father's name." She told him, pressing her hand harder around his light skin.

The boy tried to grab Clary as she forced the air out of his lungs. His nails scratched her cheek, but she ignored the stinging. "It that clear?" she asked.

The boy didn't answer, not right away at least. Clary loosened her grip, letting him catch his breath.

What he said next made Clary's insides turn around inside her.

"Clarissa, you think your father was the greatest Shadowhunter of our time-"

"You sh-" Clary began, but he cut her off.

"Don't even try to deny it, he was. But he is dead." Clary's eyes darkened as the boy spoke, "And do you really think there are no Nephilim ready to take your father's place? There are plenty. You just got to know which one you should to follow." His eyes locked with hers.

"And you think you're my father's successor?" She laughed tauntingly.

"No, I'm not stupid, Morgenstern."

"Then who is?" Clary asked angry.

"Everything in its time."

"And why are you even telling me this?" Clary asked.

"Because you are going to help us of course." He laughed lightly.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Clary snorted.

"Not now, but we'll talk another time, Clary." He smiled.

Clary let go of his throat, trying to understand what he meant.

He moved past her, walking towards the doors, he turned on last time towards her, "And, Clary," he smiled, "Remember, even the devil's been an angel."

xxxx

Clary left almost ten minutes after Van Der Walse. Her brain trying to gather all the things he'd told her. Someone was trying to continue her father's sick plans. Someone who had followers. Followers even at the Academy. And they wanted her.

She hadn't noticed her hands were shaking, not until she grabbed the doorknob to open her door. Steadying herself, she open the door to her room.

A tall figure met her as she stepped inside. She was about the attack when she recognised the dark curly hair, the black leather jacket, and of course, the awkward trademark smile that did in no way belong with such handsome features.

"Simon?"

* * *

So that's the first cliffhanger of the year. Please leave a review telling me what you thought. And also, did any of you watch the new Shadowhunters tv series?


	6. A helping hand

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

I did it, I updated. Enjoy!

* * *

He gathered himself quickly, brushing dirt off his jeans as he stood. It had been a long time since Simon had travelled using portals, and it was rather shameful how rusty his portal-jumping had become. Simon would have to remember to thank Magnus for creating a new portal, and not sending him straight into the cold water of Lake Lyn.

Simon had never seen anything like the country of the Nephilim. It was something he had always tried to avoid in the past. Out of sight, out of mind. There was something very true to that saying. More true than he could possibly be aware.

The wet grass he had landed on stained his blue jeans, and the vampire cursed his green knees silently.

The walk to the Academy was not far, he would get there in an hour if he kept his speed up. Also, if he did not run into any unwanted company.

He started moving towards the small village on the side of a forest. He wasn't exactly excelling in Shadowhunter geography, but if he dared wild guessing he would say it was the Brocelind Forest. He knew there were both Vampire clans and Werewolf packs in those forests, but he had never actually met anyone from the area. At least if he excluded that half-crazy vampire he had met a few years ago who also claimed he knew how vampires could walk in the sun. '_Maybe he wasn't crazy after all_.' Simon thought.

The village near the forest was small, houses scattered across the side of the wide roads. Someone had tied his or her horse to a pole outside their home. The horse was large, bigger than a normal horse. His fur pitch black, shining a metallic blue in the sharp sunlight. Simon held out his hand, touching the horse's soft muzzle. He noticed how the sun touched his skin, and of old habits, Simon jumped back.

"Are you lost?" A woman's voice called out for him.

Simon tuned around, "What?"

"That's my horse you're scaring." The woman answered. She was dressed in all black, like all Shadowhunters. Her black, frizzy hair tied back in a tight ponytail.

"I wouldn't say scaring; he seems to enjoy my company quiet well." Simon laughed.

"Pardus."

"Oh, no problem?" Simon raised an eyebrow.

"No, his name is _Pardus_." She shook her head, laughing.

Simon imagined this was the point he should have blushed, if he still had been human.

"Of course." He replied awkward.

"Now, I haven't seen you around here before, are you from the city?" she asked, scanning his very un-Shadowhunter like clothes.

"Yes, um, Alicante." He laughed nervous, "Ain't nothing like the City of Glass." He continued, mentally cursing his nervous babble.

"Sure, if you like your Nephilim snotty with a little know-it-all on the side, I guess Alicante is awesome." She rolled her eyes.

Simon laughed at the Shadowhunter insulting her own kind so openly. Had Simon spoken like that about the New York clan he would have been dead before he'd reach the end of his insult.

"Thanks." He tried to play his Shadowhunter part, sounding annoyed by her words.

"Sorry, let's just say I've met my fair share of arrogant glassers in the past." She told him with a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Well, then let me sincerely apologize on these arrogant _glassers_ behalf." He nodded at her.

"I'm Sola, by the way." She introduced herself.

"Simon." Simon dropped his real name before he could catch his mistake.

"So, Simon, what brings you to so far away from home." Sola asked him curiously

"I'm actually meeting someone not that far away from here." He answered honestly.

"Oh," Sola smiled, sounding a little disappointed. She stroked her fingers down the black stallion's head.

"Maybe we'll meet again at a better time then." She smiled.

Simon looked a bit confused, his eyes scanning the girl's expression. She sounded honest in her words, so Simon replied with a small smile, "Maybe we will."

xxxx

Simon's travel from the village to the Academy had went smoothly. He'd passed as a Shadowhunter, and nobody had even questioned him as he walked across the green Brocelind Plain. Blending in at the Academy was even easier; he did not stand out in the crowd of teenage Shadowhunters going to their classes.

He walked up the stairs to the fourth floor, but froze mid-step as he noticed a girl with long black hair walking down a flight of stairs. She had a book placed firmly in her hands and deeply focused on a conversation with another familiar face. Jace Herondale. They seemed too engrossed in their argument to notice the Vampire as they passed him. He looked away just to be safe.

"Yes, Jace, I jumped in a sword fight, it was a mistake. Please let it go!" She complained.

"No, I will not, I am going to tell everyone, and this will follow you until your hair turns grey, Isabelle Lightwood." Jace laughed, throwing his arm around his friend.

"ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO FIGHT WITH SWORDS!" Jace yelled out, causing more than a few students to look their way. Isabelle hit the golden boy hard, before bursting out laughing.

When the two Shadowhunters had passed, Simon continued. He started counting the doors, looking for the room he knew belonged to the Shadowhunter he needed to give his letter. He clutched the paper between his fingers to see if it was still there. It was.

28\. Simon sighed. This would be Clary's room.

Simon knocked carefully on the door.

He looked up in dismay. He detected light footsteps behind the closed door. However, they did not remind him of the confident steps the Shadowhunter used to have. These were uncertain. Careful.

The door unlocked. "May I help you?" the voice of a young girl asked. She had straight, blond hair. Her eyes very blue, not at all the intense green of the girl he was really looking for.

"No, I- I seem to have the wrong room." He explained confused. Magnus had told him 28. The Warlock had received the room number from Morgenstern's boyfriend's Parabatai. He could not be wrong. Could he?

"Um, what room are you looking for? Maybe I can help you?" She smiled sweet. She didn't seem as harsh and unfriendly as the Shadowhunters he had befriended. Simon liked Isabelle, liked her very much indeed. An intelligent and beautiful girl, but he could not pretend as if she would not be able to cut his throat if they deemed him a threat. He would _not_ trust her with his life.

"Clary." He mumbled, "I mean, Clary Morgenstern."

"About yay high," the girl held her hand up to her own ear, "Very red hair, and angry most of the time?" the girl smiled the whole time as she spoke.

"Yes, that Clary Morgenstern." Simon nodded, sending the girl a small smile in return.

"Well, this is your lucky day, umm-""Marcus" he informed her, giving the girl the name he'd given himself "Marcus." She repeated, "this is Clary's room. I'm her roommate, Rhiannon." She extended her hand to him. Simon looked down hesitantly, as if she'd unravel all his secrets if she touched him. Nevertheless, he shook her hand.

"If you want, you can wait in here," she gestured to her room as she spoke, "I mean, it's a mess, but better than standing in the dark corridor."

"Thanks." Simon nodded. He clutched his letter hard with his hand, checking again if it was still there.

"I have class in about five though, Downworlder Studies, so I guess I'll see you around, Marcus." She beamed.

"Yeah, see you around." He nodded grateful for the sound of the door clicking shut behind her.

He almost felt sorry for the Morgenstern girl for living with such positivity, almost.

When there were no longer anyone on the other side of the door, Simon moved towards the night table he assumed was Clary's. It was neat and looked untouched compared to the table next to the other girl's bed. Simon placed the letter down, drawing a deep breath.

Praying the girl could help him figure out what the hell had happened to him a few months ago.

Simon turned around at the sound of the door smashing open. His eyes met angry, cold green.

He smiled an innocent smile in her direction, thinking only one thing; "_I'm dead." _Well, double dead if he was going to be political correct about it.

"Simon?" She mumbled confused.

xxxx

"Hi."

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her voice still a bit shaken from the meeting with Van Der Walse.

"I was," Simon grabbed something from behind him, "I was going to give you this." He waved a piece of paper in front of him. An envelope.

"What's that?" Her voice sounded angry again.

"Nothing." Simon replied unsure, "I mean, it's something, but I planned for you to read this when I was not in the room. I had everything planned out, and this," Simon swirled his finger around the room, "This was not my plan."

"Okay?" Clary didn't care about the vampire's plan, as much as how he'd managed to enter her room without her consent.

"Did the mundane let you in?" Clary asked annoyed, ignoring his babbling.

"Huh?" he looked confused.

"About yay high," she held her hand up above her own head, "Blond hair and a serious case of compulsive talking." Clary explained.

"Rhiannon?" Simon asked a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"Yes."

"God, I'm going to k-" she stopped herself, "You know what? I'm more interested in what is so goddamn important that you decided to travel all the way here." Clary snapped at him, turning sour again.

Simon bit his lip, stepping to the left. Clary raised an eyebrow, waiting for the boy's answer. Simon didn't give one.

It took Clary more time than she would like to admit to figure out he was in fact standing in it. The sun. The vampire's pale face covered in yellow sun light.

"Leave." Clary replied angry.

"Clary, I know you think you didn't do this, but there is no other explanation." Simon almost begged.

"I had nothing to do with this, Lewis." Clary's voice was on the verge of a shout.

"I drank _your_ fucking blood." Simon answered.

"Which was clearly a mistake." Clary answered.

"So you do admit it's because that night." Simon retorted.

"No, I'm saying that I'm now stuck with a damn psycho who won't leave me alone." Clary snapped, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not stalking you!" Simon answered, "I need your help."

"I'm not the helping type." Clary smiled angry, her voice low and threatening.

"Clary."

"No, I don't think you understand what you're asking me to do, vampire." Clary exhaled, "If I by any chance did this to you, and you start telling your little bloodsucking friends about a cure for the 'sun-light issue'. I'm dead. Don't you think every fucking vampire in the world is willing to do anything to get out of the darkness? Don't you think they'll hunt me for the rest of my miserable existence. I mean, my life sucks pretty badly already, I don't need to add effusion of my blood on to my list as well."

"I…" Simon looked overwhelmed.

"You hadn't thought about that had you? About me?" She asked with a sarcastic smile on her lips.

"No." Simon answered honest.

There was a moment of excruciating silence as Clary did nothing more than stare at the vampire. Her smirk grew as the clock ticked.

She hadn't had the time to think about what had happened a few moments earlier, the new Circle with new Circle members inside the Academy. If Van Der Walse was indeed speaking only the truth, Clary needed to get away more than ever before. If they were like the Circle before them, they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted.

Clary knew that she was the one they wanted most. Valentine's daughter. What a great trophy.

"I can make you a deal, Vampire." Clary said at last.

"What kind of deal?" Simon answered after a long pause.

"There is something happening around here," she explained, "and to stop history from repeating itself, I need someone who can help me figure out exactly what is going on. How serious this threat really is." She smiled at him.

He put two and two together before answering; "And you want me to be that someone?"

"Depends." Clary took a few steps closer to the intruding boy, "Do you think you can make yourself useful?"

"Depends." Simon repeated looking into Clary's green eyes, "Are you going to tell me the truth?"

"Of course, Simon." Clary nodded discreet.

Clary took the boy's hand in hers, feeling the cold skin against her own. It was easy to call him a vampire when used as a slur, but she often forgot what the curse really brought the ones who walked under its shadow.

She sat down on her bed. "I lied to the clave." She confessed.

"About what?" Simon whispered, as if a Shadowhunter breaking the laws of her own people was a foreign concept to him.

"About believing I had demon blood inside me, I said my father had never experimented on me, used me to test out his mad-scientist plans to create a better, more improved race of Nephilim." Clary spoke fast, her voice shaking with nerves as she unfolded the truth she had hid from even her closest friends.

"I mean, I did not lie about the demon blood, but I still am my father's experiment. His grand work." Clary's laugh came only as a hollow sound.

"What do you mean?" Simon asked, sounding almost a little frightened.

"I have a greater amount of angel blood running through my veins." Clary said careful.

"Oh." Simon exhaled.

"I guess that explains your daylight thing." Clary mumbled.

"I guess it does make sense," Simon nodded, "I have angel blood inside me." His voice got higher as he spoke.

"Do not think it's a gift, Simon, it's not." Clary told him quietly.

Simon ignored her, asking instead; "You held up your part of our deal, now what do I have to do for you?"

xxxx

After hearing what had happened to the girl before she'd entered her room it very well explained her confused face.

"So you want me to be your eyes and ears outside the Academy until you find a way to escape?" Simon asked.

"Yes." Clary agreed.

"I can do that." Simon smirked, "I'm very good at lurking around." This caused a small smile to creep up the sides of the girl's mouth.

"You better be, Lewis." Clary said.

* * *

I hope this chapter made some of you Simon fans out there happy. I had no space for his story in Undefined Darkness, but in Missing Souls, his story will probably be one of the biggest, just saying :) Also, sorry about the absence of Clace, but I can't write mindless love without a plot, so you'll have to wait a little bit to get more. But I promise there is a lot more of Clace stored up for later.


	7. Good and bad

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Hope everyone's having a great christmas!

* * *

"Clary!" Jace shouted as his girlfriend walked hurriedly past him ignoring his hand as it brushed against her arm.

"Clary!" he repeated heavily. They hadn't talked since Clary stormed out of class a few days ago. She had locked herself inside her room, ditching class, practice, dinner; she even skipped her meeting with Iwan that she had promised him. His arm wrapped around hers, holding her back as she tried to get away from him.

"Don't do this, Clary," he whispered in her ear as he got close enough to feel the heat of her skin against his lips.

"I'm not doing anything," she replied, giving him a determined look, before smiling.

"Yes, you're closing yourself off again, I know the Academy is giving you a tough time, but you got to fight back, don't listen to idiots like Walse."

"What makes you think I care about his words?" Clary laughed, it was almost hurtful that Clary thought she could fool him that quickly, but he didn't push it.

Jace kissed her temple carefully, breathing in as his nose touch her hair. "I've missed you."

"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured kissing him lips, but the act felt cold. Jace pressed his lips together hard as she separated from him. He felt a million miles away; Clary worked as if she was in another world.

xxx

Clary let out a shaking breath as Jace left her in the corridor. She hated lying to him, hated that she had to lie to all of them, but there was no other way around it. If she wanted to find out about the New Circle, she had to do it this way.

Simon had not been in contact since he left the Academy a fortnight earlier. She had to trust him. He was her only hope at that point until she could break through the protective runes the school placed on their portals, she could not dare travel back to New York or anywhere for that matter.

Clary's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice calling her name. She turned around just in time to catch two first graders run through the corridor at full speed.

"What, Iwan?" Clary raised an eyebrow, looking at the two boys stopping before her.

"Don't use that voice on me!" he complained, "You know you're not gonna scare my away, so stop acting as you are."

Clary laughed as she nodded, "Okay, what do you want, Iwan?"

"We need your help with mundane studies. Can you explain what happens when a mundane is in contact with a _stele_?" Iwan asked.

"Because Max thinks they become giant, ugly monsters that try to kill you, and then they die," Iwan laughed, "but that's crazy, right?"

Clary bit her lip, "You've not learned about Forsaken before?" she asked annoyed.

"We've only been her for a few months, Clary," Iwan told her.

"Right…" Clary replied, "Well, Max is right, sort of," she explained, "Mundanes who receive a rune, which that cannot handle, become Forsaken. They usually are loyal to the one who Marked them, so they follow their commands. Their anger makes them dangerous creatures, so yes, they might kill you."

xxx

"You think something is wrong?" Isabelle whispered, biting down on her pencil.

"You don't?" Jace replied, watching the red-haired girl sitting three seats in front of them. She had walked right past them as she entered the classroom.

"I don't know? Have you been fighting?" Isabelle asked.

"Not that I know of, last time we talked she said everything was fine," Jace mumbled, thinking of the way Clary had acted earlier that day. Cold.

Clary had barely spoken with them in the past week, not to mention missed every meal the Academy offered her.

"I think you should try to talk to her, I mean, she's willingly sitting next to Rhi, something is wrong." Isabelle pointed out as Clary sat next to the mundane. Their history class was together with the mundanes.

"I'll try, but it's not that easy when she keeps lying to me," Jace shook his head, looking at Clary's red hair dancing down her back. She was talking with her roommate in quiet tones as if they were talking about something secret.

xxx

"You've skipped a lot of classes, Clary," Rhiannon told her as Clary sat down next to her.

"You can mind your own business," Clary snapped at her.

"Have anyone told you that you're not a very kind human being?"

"As a matter of fact, they have," Clary laughed.

"I'm just trying to help you," the mundane twisted her pen between her fingers.

"I don't-"

"Need my help," Rhi finished her sentence, "I know, but I want to offer it anyways."

"Well, you can stop right away," Clary hissed.

"Why did you sit down next to me if you're only here to shout at me?" Rhiannon asked.

"I'm allowed to sit wherever I want, am I not?"

"Yes, but you could sit with your boyfriend."

"Rhiannon," Clary hushed her.

"What?" She asked confused, "He is your boyfriend, is he not? Jace?"

"Yes, I mean, no, he's.." Clary struggled to find her words, "He's none of your business."

"You need to find new comebacks, Clary, you sound like a broken record," Rhi shook her head, "And if you think I stand for what you're doing to him, I don't!"

Clary looked at her confused.

"The only reason I haven't told him myself is that I hoped you would have the courage to explain it yourself, but you're only avoiding him, hurting yourself in the process." Rhiannon continued.

"What are you talking about, Rhi?" Clary asked bewildered.

"Marcus!" the girl almost shouted.

"WHAT?" Clary hissed, "What Marcus?"

"If you're cheating on Jace with him, I know it's not my problem, but that is so beneath you, Clary!"

"I'm what?" Clary almost laughed, "No, I'm not at all cheating on Jace with anyone, I don't even know who Marcus is?" Clary whispered quickly.

"Yes you do, don't lie to me, we live in the same room," Rhi told her, "I let him into your room, and he stayed for a very long time."

"Simon?" Clary asked confused.

"No, he told me his name, I saw you two in our room. Don't play stupid when we both know you're the smartest one in the room." Rhi had a weird habit of showering everyone with compliments; apparently, she didn't stop even when she was fighting.

"Rhi, can we talk about this another time?" Clary asked, feeling Jace and Isabelle's eyes watching them.

"Okay." She agreed, looking around to confirm Clary's thoughts.

xxx

Clary did not intend to tell her roommate about everything she kept inside her head. She did not need Rhiannon to be her therapist. She needed to make Rhiannon forget, even if it meant doing something unforgivable. Taking someone's memory was forbidden, but doing so to protect someone's life, Clary had no other choice.

She drew the rune on paper once more. It would work as a memory lock, similar to a warlock's power. It wouldn't steal her memories, but it would lock them away, out of Rhi's reach. She had to draw the rune on a necklace since Rhiannon wouldn't be strong enough to handle such a powerful rune getting in contact with her skin yet.

Clary drew the same beautiful rune on a small jade stone, keeping it in her hand as the girl entered their room.

"Okay, we're alone." Rhiannon tried to act cool, but her voice revealed how nervous she was.

"You want me to tell you why Simon was in my room?" Clary asked.

"Our room, yes."

"Our room," Clary corrected with a bitter sound, "Rhiannon, I hope you understand that what I am about to tell you, I don't think you want to know it."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Rhiannon asked.

"Okay." Clary nodded, impressed by the girl's harsh tone.

"Simon, or Marcus, whichever you feel fits him best, I don't care, he's helping me find out about the new circle. I assume you know what the circle was?" She told her. Clary didn't know why she bothered; she was just going to take the girl's memories away anyways.

"Yes, you're father's group," Rhiannon answered.

Clary nodded, "Yes, and now there might be people who're trying to recreate what once was the Circle. Someone who might even be inside this school, Simon is helping my gather information, or he's supposed to. So as you can see, I have better things on my mind than love affairs and school drama." Clary looked at the girl; she had gone pale.

"Are you telling me, someone in this school wants to kill people like me?" Rhi asked.

"No, I don't think so, I don't know yet, Rhi, but I'm gonna make sure nothing happens to anyone inside this school or outside." She smiled, taking the girl's hand in hers. The jade pendant connected with the girl's skin and she looked empty for a second before she smiled warmly at Clary.

Clary quickly left their room; she couldn't stay in the same room with the mundane as she was drowning in guilt listening to Rhiannon talk about her day as if nothing had happened.

"Hey." Clary felt shivers cover her arms. As if she hadn't been through enough already, Kristofer Van Der Walse stood before her giving her a confident grin.

"Get out of my way, Walse. I'm not in the mood for a fight," she told him between closed teeth.

"Too bad I'm not looking for a fight then," he smiled.

"What do you want?" Clary asked, "If you're here to try to recruit me for some New Age Circle shit, I'll have to decline."

"Nope, I'm just here to tell you that there's someone who would like to meet you," he said.

"Who?"

"I can't say, he's a very private person, but I can promise you that you don't want to miss what he's got to say."

"I'm not interested." Clary started walking away, but the words that left Walse's lips made Clary's blood freeze.

"I'll let the young Herondale know."

Clary turned around, her arm finding his face faster than she managed to think, "Do you think threatening someone I care about is a good idea, Walse?" she asked, shaking the pain in her knuckles away.

"What makes you think it was a threat? I'm just saying that you should be careful to show your feelings around here, Clary, people are watching you."

* * *

Please leave a review telling me what you think


	8. Devil's playground

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Happy new year! I hope everyone's had a great 2017 so far!

* * *

"What do you mean?" Clary asked, watching as Walse rubbed his red cheek. She knew she hadn't caused too much damage, but that was because she did not intend to do so. The way his teeth showed behind a small smile sent a quiver down her back; he seemed to enjoy the pain rather than hurt from it.

"I do not like to repeat myself, Morgenstern, someone wants to see you," he met her eyes, "And I strongly advise you not to decline."

"Where?" she asked, her voice was merely a whisper, but it was strong enough to carry its way to Walse.

"Training field, at midnight."

"If this is some childish scam, Kristofer, I promise you that a new circle rising is going to be the least of your problems," she told him, walking away from the dark corridor. Clary couldn't make out the words he shouted at her, but she could imagine they were not a declaration of his admiration for her. She didn't know what to believe; Walse could be just another student who thought she didn't deserve another chance in their world. He had already told everyone the way she fought was unfair. This 'new circle' crap could be a way to push her out of their world, or he could be telling the truth. Clary didn't know which option scared her the most. For the first time in her life, she wanted Simon to show up; she needed information; information she couldn't get when she was stuck here.

It was probably a terrible decision, but she wanted to go to the meeting with Walse's mystery person. Wanted to see with her own eyes what threat these people were, if they were a threat at all.

"Clary," someone touched her shoulder, and it wasn't until then she realised she'd been standing in the dining hall staring at nothing for God knows how long.

"Isabelle," Clary forced herself to send the girl a smile.

"Can we talk for a second?" Isabelle asked her friend.

"Do I have a choice?" Clary asked, trying to come across as funny. Isabelle shook her head as she dragged Clary over to an empty table, her hand felt warm and comforting around Clary's wrist.

"I've wanted to talk to you for a long time now," Isabelle started, "I wanted to talk about you, and before you tell me I'm an idiot.. I know how you are, we're quite similar, you and I." Clary smiled, chuckling at Isabelle's words.

"I'm not trying to be funny, Clary. You're not easy to read, damn, you're impossible sometimes; that's why Jace never knows what to do when you act like this, you act like nothing affects you, but you're not made of stone Clary. Things hurt; even for you." Isabelle kept her dark eyes fixed on Clary, and Clary couldn't do anything but be grateful she didn't share her brother's blue eyes. Alec's stare always made her extremely uncomfortable, like she'd done something wrong.

"Okay.." Clary pressed her lips together.

"I'm not done, I've practised this the whole day, and you're going to let me finish." Isabelle shut up the red headed girl. "I wanted to tell you that I understand what you're going through, or probably not, but I can try. You see, when I found out my dad had cheated on my mum, I… I was so angry. With him for having an affair, with my mother for not leaving him, with Alec for not knowing, even though that was my fault for not telling him, so I ended up being angry with myself. It's not a good place to be in when anger is drowning you." Isabelle smiled, but her eyes showed regret.

"Isabelle, I'm-" Clary began, she wanted to apologise, she knew the Lightwood family were all bearing the loss of Robert Lightwood silently, they were Shadowhunters, and Shadowhunters did not mourn. At least not out loud.

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm here, not when you feel like talking, because you'll never feel like it, but you're going to need it in the end."

Clary looked at the beautiful girl in front of her. She had always seemed to be the strongest of the Shadowhunter teens when Clary had met them. She was calm and collected, smart, kind and a strong fighter. Isabelle Lightwood was everything Clary had wished to be had the circumstances been different.

"Thank you."

xxx

The cold air around Clary calmed her nerves. She had only been to the training field during the day, as she was not allowed outside after dark. The field was only lit by a single lamp post. Clary's thoughts were fighting a war inside her head as she took one more step towards the person she was meeting. Her rationality told her to turn and go back, but her gut told her to keep going.

She noticed a man standing in the corner of the field. He wore all black like all Shadowhunters did, his arms were covered in scars, but they did not look like typical rune scars. They were deeper and more disfigured than rune scars. Clary touched the side of her face, tracing her burn mark. They did look quite similar.

"Clarissa," the man had a dynamic voice, a familiar voice. As he turned around, her stomach twisted. The man reminded her of someone dead. Someone Clary had known well, but he had died, and it had been Clary's fault. It was no way it could be him.

"It is a great honour, Clarissa," the man looked down at her: it was not her father. It was not anyone Clary knew at all.

"Now, you probably wonder why I've requested a meeting with you?" he asked, smiling. Clary didn't like his teeth.

"Not really," she replied.

"Oh?" he could not have sounded less surprised, "please tell me then."

"I'm not telling you anything," Clary answered coldly, "not until you've answered some of my questions."

The man chuckled, but no humour laid behind his voice, "Of course, Clarissa, I should have expected you to come bearing questions."

"What is your name?" Clary started easily.

"Samuel Ambermark," he replied quickly, he expected the question from her.

"Ambermark?" Clary tested the name, "Related to Finley Ambermark?"

"My brother, yes," the man confirmed. Finley Ambermark worked for the Clave; he was working close to the new Inquisitor.

"Are you working together?" She asked.

A sneering laugh escaped him, "Finley and me? No," he shook his head, "Finley is too busy playing Inquisitor Lovelace's little errand boy."

"What's your plan? Why would you ever want to start up my father's old circle? Did you not see what happened to him?" Clary asked, frustration showing in her words.

"I knew your father very well, Clarissa, at least before he disappeared. He was a great man, with great plans, but he was also a distracted man."

Clary didn't know what he meant by that. "Your scars," Clary pointed out, "how did you get them?"

Samuel touched his arm, where the long scar traced down from his elbow to the tip of his middle finger. He seemed lost for a second, fixated on his story. A story he would not tell her. His eyes locked with hers. His eyes were dark blue, but she was sure she could see a ring of brown around his pupils.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Clarissa Morgenstern."

Clary nodded. Yes, she had her suspicions.

"Those who play with fire…" she began her father's infamous speech.

"Will always end up burnt." Samuel finished for her. He took another quick glance at Clary before speaking up again, "Now, I think we've had a long enough talk, don't you agree, Clarissa?"

"I have one more question for you: Why on earth would I ever join your pathetic little 'new circle'?" the made air quotes around the last two words.

Samuel smiled back at her; he seemed unfazed by her mockery.

"I think you will want to join us, at least in the end."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It is supposed to mean that I don't care how pathetic you think our movement is. You're going to help us." Samuel took a step closer, and she forced herself to stay put. His half-long hair, white like snow, cupped his face. She focused on his features; it was a technique her father had taught her, to familiarise oneself with one's opponent. It made them more human, less dangerous. He was pretty, at least as pretty as old Nephilim could get. War and death had a way of shaping lives, creating missing souls in even the most brilliant of people.

Samuel took out his stele, an excellent twig-like tool. He bent down towards the grass, brushing away the water that covered the straws. His stele painted a perfect rune, a rune Clary had never seen before. She wanted to ask about it, but what happened next made her blood run cold.

Three separate images appeared in front of her. The first image was a young boy; he was fast asleep. Unaware of the dangers around him, Iwan was sleeping with a knife to his throat. Next to him, a picture of his brother. The two Herondale brothers had never seemed more alike. Unprotected and vulnerable. Clary knew she must have said something aloud because Samuel smiled.

The third picture was of someone Clary wouldn't have expected. Rhiannon. She slept on her back. Her stomach moved slowly up and down as the only sign of life in her mundane body.

"No," Clary closed her eyes. She should have known something like this would come. Even the new Circle couldn't be stupid enough to expect her to join them without any blackmail.

"Yeah... Life is not always fair, Clarissa, but I do expect you to do the right thing." Samuel touched her shoulder lightly, "I think the young Herondale brothers will appreciate it, and let's do not forget your little mundane friend. Rhiannon? She's stunning, isn't she?"

Clary could not reply. Her words were stuck on her tongue.

"I know this may seem harsh, but I hope you understand that we don't have much of a choice here. There is simply not enough time to convince you of joining us."

Clary closed her eyes. Inhaling, exhaling. Her feet shook, threatening to break under her.

"What do you need me to do?" Clary asked. She tried to keep her voice steady, but the defeat she felt overwhelmed her.

"Oh, do not worry, Clarissa. What I ask of you, it is nothing you have not done before." Samuel let his triumphed smile aggregate her. "I want you to steal the Mortal Sword."

"That's crazy!" Clary protested, "I never even stole the Mortal Sword, my father did."

"Well, I trust you'll know what to do," he told her with confidence.

Clary sent a last glance towards the three images. "How do I know you won't hurt them even if I agree to help you?"

"I am not an idiot, human emotions is the only trigger powerful enough to control our actions, if I kill your friends, I no longer hold your emotions in a leash." He spoke to Clary with a warm tone in his voice; it was what reminded Clary of her father.

"I.." Clary exhaled, "I.. I promise you I will bring you the Mortal Sword, but only if you promise me that all my friends are safe."

"Of course, Clarissa, as long as the Mortal Sword is in my possession in two weeks, your friends are safe."

xxx

Clary walked back to the Academy with shaking hands. In the past, when she worked for her father, the people she met had never had anyone to use against her. She had never imagined seeing the people she cared about being killed, unable to help them.

Clary had no idea why, but her feet moved not to the fourth floor where Rhiannon would be sleeping blissfully unaware of the dangers she'd been in only minutes ago, but to the third floor. Down the corridor, fifth door to the right.

"Clary?" A sleepy voice whispered at her after she'd knocked at least ten times on his door. She had to know he was okay. He looked fine. His hair was running wild; a confused smile replaced his trademark smirk. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep.," Clary answered.

"So you went outside?" Jace asked, referring to the training gear she was wearing.

"Yeah, I just.. I thought some fresh air would help, but.." Clary's eyes wandered from his face to his bare stomach; covered in fading runes, but he looked unhurt.

"Do you want to come inside?" Jace asked, a concerned look on his face.

Clary nodded, but she couldn't make her feet move without showing Jace how much her body was shaking.

"Hey?" Jace touched her arm carefully, "Hey, Clary, what's going on?" he asked.

Clary bit her lip hard; she didn't know how to reply. She could never tell him the truth. If she did, he would hate her. If she told him that she was repeating history, stealing the Mortal Sword and joining the Circle again. He would hate her. He would never want to see her again.

"Jace," Clary whispered as he pressed her closer to his chest, "I'm so sorry."

"Okay, Clary, you're scaring me," Jace whispered back, closing the door behind her, "You don't have anything to be sorry for, it is not your fault that Walse is an asshole, you're only trying to do the right thing."

Nothing could have prepared Jace for what Clary did next. Her mouth met his like a storm. Clary felt like crying; she needed a distraction.

Jace kissed her back, pulling her closer to him as their mouths moved in perfect rhythms together. Clary didn't breathe; she fought back the tears that pressed on behind her eyes with each kiss. Jace was obviously still confused. As he broke their kiss first, he wrapped her in a much-needed hug.

"Hey, don't do that," he told her, "Don't kiss me to shut me up." He couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry," Clary apologised.

"I'm not complaining," Jace smirked.

"But you are." Clary tried to play along. Jace lifted her up, catching her in another long kiss. "I'm not complaining," he protested as he put her down on his bed. Their bodies wrapped around each other like they were built to fit perfectly. His lips traced down her neck. Clary pulled her gear jacket off. He helped her with her sweater.

Clary looked up at him as his eyes explored her exposed body. His eyes were so bright. He was stunning. He kissed one of her grey scars; he had many to choose from as they covered her whole body.

"Clary," Jace whispered against her skin, his lips tickled her skin as his spoke, "Did you know..." he was clearly out of breath too, "you make me so happy.. so happy that I sometimes forget to breathe." Clary smiled, shaking her head, "It's true, sometimes, I'll be looking at you, and I will get this aching in my chest...and it's like, the only thought in my mind is how beautiful you are," he kissed her slowly, "and I get this strong urge to reach over and kiss you."

Clary wrapped her arms around his neck, "So do it," she whispered in his ear. Clary's next move might have been a selfish one; she did it all for the wrong reasons. She needed to feel alive. She needed to feel real.

"You make me feel like I am good," Clary told him. It was the truth, and right now, she needed his goodness more than anything.

"You are," his voice was merely a breath. She kissed him again, letting him take off the last piece of clothing that separated their skin. When their bodies linked, moving with each other in perfect pace, nothing else mattered. They were alive, and to Clary that was everything. For just one night, she needed to love him without the fear of an uncertain future.

* * *

Yep, I went there. Hope you liked it, especially the last scene, I'm not good with romance. Please leave a review telling me what you thought :)


	9. Being human

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare. William Blake's poem _A War Song to Englishmen_ is also used to this chapter.

Hope everyone's having a great summer!

* * *

The large book of ancient runes covered most of her desk, leaving only room for her silver stele and a cup of tea to warm her hands. She had tried for almost two weeks now to find a way to get out of the Academy without anyone noticing, nevertheless how she could sneak into the Silent City and steal the Soul-Sword. It was an impossible task. Thankfully, Clary had a reputation of performing the impossible, and she was running out of time, so she had to act quick.

The door to her room opened abruptly, and Rhiannon appeared. She was wearing a flowy yellow dress, her curly hair perfectly bouncing off her shoulders. Since the night Samuel Ambermark had threatened Rhiannon's life, along with the two Herondale brothers, Clary had felt something in her stomach every time she looked at the mundane girl. A knot inside her. Rhi was an innocent soul; she'd probably never even killed anything.

"Clary, you've locked yourself in our room for too long now, the sun is out, so should you be," Rhi told her, "And do not say you don't have any friends because that's a bullshit excuse."

"I have friends," Clary rolled her eyes, "I just don't like the sun."

"Come on everyone likes the sun!" Rhi shouted as she picked up one of her books.

"I think I've met a few vampires who would disagree, Rhi," Clary laughed.

"Well, they don't count." Rhiannon laughed as well.

"What?" Clary asked confused, "Why?"

"You know, they're not human."

"Rhi, what are you talking about?" Clary asked, feeling the uncomfortable air pressing around the two girls.

"I just mean that they can't be out in the sun, they're not really the best judges of the quality of the sun, are they?" Rhi defended herself, but she earned a long suspicious look from her roommate.

"I guess so," Clary replied in the end.

"So, you're sure you don't want to come outside? Some of the sixth years are practising their fighting skills on the lawn." Rhiannon tried one last time.

"As tempting as that sounds, I will have to decline," Clary told her bored.

"Fine, your loss," Rhi closed the door, annoyed with Clary's attitude, "but I will have you know, Jace Herondale is there, and there are quite a few girls looking like they're ready to give him their hearts as soon as he looks their way."

Clary turned around to look at her, "Rhi", Clary and Rhiannon had grown closer and closer, something Clary had thought impossible. Rhi was a mundane – a mundane who would go through the ascension into a Shadowhunter in less than a year – but still a mundane. "I don't have time for this, just, please let it go."

Rhiannon sat down on her bed. Pink sheets lay perfectly over it, and she was a 'multiple-pillows' type of person, with her four large pillows in different bright colours. Clary had never understood how someone could fall asleep with that many pillows under them; she could barely sleep with one. She could hardly sleep at all.

"Sorry.." Rhi mumbled, "I shouldn't use your boyfriend as a threat against you, that's no way to treat your friends."

Clary thought of Ambermark again. The knife against Iwan's neck. Jace's chest was rising and falling slowly, his curly golden hair running across his beautiful face. She thought of Rhiannon on her back. Three people that she would do anything to protect, even if it meant risking her freedom, and even her life, in doing so.

xxxx

Later that night, when all student had gone to bed, Clary left hers.

She had finally gotten another message from the vampire boy. Simon. She should probably start calling him Simon now. He was after all risking his life to help her.

She saw the shadow of a tall boy on the steps of the Academy's entrance. "I never thought I would say it's good to see you, Simon Lewis."

"I wish I could say the same, Clary Morgenstern," he replied. Simon looked young, but his voice spoke a history of loss, love, and tragedy.

"Let's go somewhere more private," Clary whispered, looking up at the dark windows of the Academy.

"I didn't take you for a first date kind of girl, Clary, I'm shocked," his voice was dry, he knew the joke would not be received well.

"Shut up, Daylighter," Clary took his hand in hers and pulled him after her down the green fields leading away from the stone building. "What did you find out?" she asked as soon as they were out of view from the Shadowhunter school.

"Oh, you're going to love this," he pulled something from his back pocket. A piece of paper, yellow and wrinkled, and ripped at the top. She took it from his hands, studying it. There were words scribbled on the page; the ink smeared across the page carelessly.

_The arrows of Almighty God are drawn!_

_Angels of Death stand in the louring heavens!_

_Thousands of souls must seek the realms of light,_

_And walk together on the clouds of heaven!_

_Prepare, prepare!_

The words burned Clary's green eyes harder than any truth because she could not make sense of what she read.

"Angels of Death stand in the louring heavens?" Clary repeated the second line confused.

"It's William Blake," Simon replied, but as he saw Clary's blank expression, he continued: "The poet."

"I know who he is, Simon. I just don't understand why you felt it necessary to drag me out of bed in the middle of the night to give me a poem about people dying."

"First of all, it's not about death, not directly at least, it's about war, and second, I think you'll find it interesting that this was taken from Samuel Ambermark."

"What?" Clary whispered, emotions overflowing her words.

"When you told me he had come to you, and what he'd asked you to do…" Simon stopped, inhaling sharply, "Contrary to popular beliefs, vampires do have feelings, and I couldn't help thinking what might happen to Isabelle if…" he exhaled, "Anyway, I still haven't actually tried out my new powers, so I went to the Ambermark manor, it's an impressive home, but Shadowhunters are careless creatures, for people obsessed with protection and the law, you're bad at both," Simon smiled.

Clary looked at the page again, "Is there more to it? The poem?"

"Yes, I believe so, but this is all Ambermark had written," Simon stuck his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket, "It was pierced to the wall by this." Simon pulled out a black knife. It was short, its tip curved. There were runes drawn down the edge of the knife.

"That's strange," Clary mumbled, "I've never seen these runes before," she took the sharp blade from Simon, hissing as the metal touch her fingers. The metal was flaming hot against her skin. It felt like acid, the way it left blisters on the tips of her fingers.

"What the hell!" Simon looked shocked. The vampire had been holding the knife just seconds ago, and he seemed to be unharmed.

"Demon Metal," Clary whispered, "I guess Ambermark is more influential and powerful than I had assumed," she tried to sound calm, but between the burning in her hand and the knife with powers beyond even her knowledge, she felt like throwing up.

"Why did it only hurt you?" Simon asked as he picked up the knife again.

Clary pressed hard against the blisters on her fingers, trying to calm the pain. "My guess is that the demon metal only harms non-demonic creatures, and technically, vampires are part demon."

Simon let the blade run along his skin, "After I had bitten you, after this whole Daylighter _thing," _he didn't have a better word for what had happened to him yet, "I sometimes forget I am not human."

"Tragic," Clary replied sarcastic, "Now, back to the real problem," she winked at him, "You have to put that knife back. If Ambermark finds out it is missing we will have another issue on our hands, demonic metal is rare, even more so than _adamas_."

Clary touched Simon's hand cautiously, feeling his cold skin against her warm. _I sometimes forget I am not human_. She felt Simon's dark eyes on her, she had never touched him like this, and it made him uneasy. "Thank you, Simon Lewis."

Simon smiled, not his confident smile that he had built up through years of practice, but a real smile, like a child who'd just won the largest stuffed animal at a fair. Or someone who'd just seen all the wonders of the world.

"Look at us, Valentine's daughter and the Daylighter, bonding."

Clary made a funny face at him, "We're not bonding, Blood-sucker," Clary shook her head, "We're saving the world."

"Even better, we're Batman and Robin."

"You can insult yourself all you want, Bat Man, but my name is Clary, not Robin," Clary told him annoyed.

"No, it's not.. You know what, it's not that important," Simon snorted amused, "I'll make sure the knife is returned to the manor ASAP," he nodded a goodbye to the red headed girl.

xxxx

Back in her room, Clary drew an _iratze_ on her skin to heal the burnt flesh on her fingertips. The wound was still throbbing, the skin crawling off as thin red sheets of paper. The rune was useless; it did not matter how many healing runes she applied to her scarred skin, the burn from the demonic metal would not heal.

She had heard stories of Demon Metal leaving permanent wounds on the victim. There were different metals, of course, and they all ranged in scales from agonising to deadly. Clary was lucky she had only touched the metal.

xxxx

It was almost morning when Clary made the decision to pay everyone's favourite Warlock a visit.

She knew it was risky to open a portal on school grounds, wards were protecting the school, and it would be consequences once she returned, but she had no choice. Her burning wound had spread up her arm, and it was starting to feel like someone was pressing a hot iron against her veins.

She drew the portal rune on the battleground outside the Academy, watching as the beautiful iridescent hole opened before her. She had missed this. It was the feeling of freedom.

Jumping through the portal sent chills down her spine, and she grinned as her hair flew back as the cold air hit her face. She landed with grace on the floor of a regal looking room. Burgundy walls, and dark wooden furniture decorated the room.

"Who's there?" The voice of Magnus Bane rung through the room. "I hope you understand that not even I enjoy guests at four in the morning, it is rather rude actually, to intrude on one's beauty sleep-" He didn't finish his speech because as soon as he saw Clary, his face darkened.

"What are you doing here, Morning Star?" He asked as he snapped his fingers and the room erupted with bright lights.

Another figure emerged from the bedroom. The dark-haired boy was unmistakable. His half-naked body covered in white scars, proof of old runes long faded away. Clary could also make out his permanent black runes, but the small rune on his chest stuck out the most. It was his _parabatai _rune. The rune that bound him to Jace.

"Hey.." she waved at the two awkwardly.

"Clary?" Alec looked confused, walking over to her with a soft expression she had never seen the eldest Lightwood sibling wear, "Aren't you supposed to be at the Academy?"

She wondered if Jace had told him about their night when Clary had let her selfish hunger take control of her. She had slept with Jace for the first time, and she'd done it for all the wrong reasons. Could _parabatai _feel it? Did they know when their other half was having sex?

Clary shook her silly thoughts away. "I am," she said, "but I need your help." She looked straight at Magnus. As she lifted her arm, Alec drew in a sharp breath, but he didn't say anything.

"Have you tried a healing rune?" Magnus asked.

"No, I can't believe I didn't think of that," Clary replied annoyed.

"Looks like some serious demonic powers are eating at you, Clarissa," Magnus told her, touching her wound lightly.

"I touched a knife."

"A knife?" Alec's blue eyes met her green, "Who's knife?"

"That is not important, what is important is that you fix this," she exhaled as another sharp pain ran up her arm, "Before I lose an arm."

"Fine," Magnus sat down next to his boyfriend, "Though, for barging into my home in the middle of the night, you do deserve it."

"Magnus," the name sounded fragile on the lips of the warlock's lover as if he was afraid of the word chattering if he raised his voice.

"I'll be back in a second," the warlock exclaimed, leaving the two Shadowhunter alone in the bright room.

"I guess it is meaningless to ask you how this happened, Clary," Alec touched her arm lightly, "Inside the Academy, nevertheless."

"Sorry, but I can't," Clary shook her head heavy.

"Are you safe?" he asked, real concern coating his expression.

"Define 'safe', Alec Lightwood," Clary chuckled.

"As safe as a Shadowhunter can be," his lips tugged upwards as he spoke.

"Never."

"I was afraid you would say that," Alec brushed a hand through his dark hair. Clary had never understood Jace's _parabatai_, he had always seemed so dark and angry to her. He reminded her much of herself if she had to be completely honest. Something about him, something buried deep inside him – and Clary – it felt like undefined darkness.

"Alec," Clary looked into the boy's blue eyes, "you cannot tell Jace and Isabelle about this, please."

An uncomfortable look crossed his face, "They are my family, Clary, yours too."

Another stabbing pain ran up Clary's arm, and she cried out.

"That's exactly why you can't tell them," her eyes pleaded for him to agree.

"On one condition," Alec pressed his lips together, "You come to me if there's anything you need."

Clary looked down, hiding her emotions from the face before her. Before she could protest, Magnus strode back into the living room, a phial filled with a thick, blue-ish liquid. "Drink up, Morning Star."

"Thank you," gratefully; Clary swallowed the content.

"Always a pleasure to assist you Nephilim," he laid a hand on Alec's shoulder, "I've gotten used to your incompetence by now, living through centuries of sickly, dying Shadowhunters," he looked down at the dark-haired boy, "no offence, Alec."

"None taken," he laughed.

xxxx

Magnus had conjured a portal for Clary to transport her back to the Academy. It was the only way she could enter the grounds of the Academy without ending up in Lake Lyn first.

She felt her legs hit solid ground. Wet grass wrapped around her feet, soaking her shoes. There was a shrieking sound surrounding Clary. It must be the alarm, the one to notify the school of unauthorised portals breaking through the wards protecting the school and its students.

The next thing she noticed was a dozen eyes laid upon her.

* * *

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